Star Wars: Division
by GreyReturns
Summary: Post-The Last Jedi: Rey and Kylo Ren stay stubbornly committed to their respective sides in the growing Galactic War. But, as their odd bond through the Force continues to give them windows into each other's lives and thoughts, creating an undeniable intimacy, will they stay divided or find common ground? Is their relationship doomed or fated?
1. Chapter One

Star Wars: Division

Division: a): the act or process of dividing; the state of being divided

b): the act, process, or an instance of separating or keeping apart

I was recently inspired to write this fanfiction, but it has been a very long time since I've written fanfiction; I mostly keep to stuffy essays for my graduate studies and humble attempts at writing novels. Here's hoping this fun little side project I've decided to undertake is enjoyable for the readers. I'm new to the site - I'm doing my best to learn the ins-and-outs of this site. Please be patient!

His leather glove tightened on nothing - another lie. Luke Skywalker was certainly a master of deception, if nothing else.

Standing to his full height, he turned and approached his General, the sneer on Hux's face all too familiar. With a nonchalance that betrayed his usually temperamental personality, he took his General carefully by the lapels and gave them a nice straightening and adjustment, then slowly brushed them off with his gloved hands. "Snoke thought of you as a rabid dog, General," he said evenly, their faces inches away from one another. "And he believed a rabid dog could be a useful tool. But you must know," he said lowly, almost to the point of a whisper, "I believe the only way to cure a rabid dog is to put it down like the maddened beast it is." He angled his face, slightly, to glimpse Hux out of the corner of his eye. Not unexpectedly, Hux was gazing at him from the corner of his eye, too, and he very audibly swallowed.

Kylo Ren stood rod straight and stepped away from his long-time rival-turned-underling. "Ready the forces for departure."

Hux clicked his heels together. "Yes, Supreme Leader," and then he quickly directed the stormtroopers to turn back. He smartly walked forward, turning from Kylo Ren, and his guards followed behind as troopers emerged from the depths of the base to head out.

"And General?"

Hux halted and turned to look back over his shoulder, tensed.

"Remember my words."

Hux turned himself forward and continued on without a sound. He would hate to give his nemesis the satisfaction. But he did raise a gloved hand to tug along the front of his neckline nervously, and Kylo Ren did not miss that.

No, he suspected there would be very little he would miss in regards to Hux, who he planned to keep a very close eye on; enemies closer, and all that. He wasn't a fool - Hux was not thrilled to be under his direct command, and a coup or assassination attempt would certainly not be beyond his estimations. Kylo Ren would have a lot of work to do in regards to finding out where all of his subordinates' loyalties lied. The Knights of Ren would not be enough to keep his throne.

In defeat, the First Order closed up all its hatches, and brought back all of its land equipment, and made do cramming everything into the remainder of the fleet post the Vice-Admiral's heroic suicide. Kylo Ren sneered - self-sacrificing righteousness. It was one of those defining factors between the likes of the Empire or the First Order and the Rebellion and the Resistance. Empire and First Order leaders alike never threw themselves in the line of fire - too selfish. Whereas the Rebellion and Resistance leaders wasted no time throwing their life away if it meant their cause could use their sacrifice to live on. Heroics. He snorted as he gazed out of the _Finalizer's_ bridge viewport. Back aboard the ship, he was monitoring the spread of the First Order across the galaxy. With minimal effort, the New Republic had been shattered; with the loss of the Hosnian system, which had included the Senate and most of the Republic's military forces, the remaining planets were beginning to pull away from the fragmented government in order to protect their own interests. Some planets, such as that of their Centrist Senator-turned-spy Carise Sindian, were already aligning themselves with the First Order, as had been planned all along. And while the First Order had spent so many years preparing for war and the eventual destruction of the New Republic, the Republic itself had let its military prowess stagnate due to peace, and because of their ridiculous Military Disarmament Act, passed with such a false sense of security. No one paid any attention.

No one was noticing the tragic, bloody repetition of history except him; why was he the only one seeking a new path, a new way? _Let the past die._ It was time to truly bring balance to the Galaxy. It was his time.

 **Then:**

Everything ached. It ached as if she'd spent three days hard scavenging with no rest and no food. Something in her head must've been jarred loose because as she raised it she could only see in double. With an exhausted noise, her arms gave out and she fell right back onto the solid steel floor. _The Fleet_. There wasn't any time to be tired and weak. If she didn't pick herself up off that dark, soulless floor and get down to Crait, then all of her friends would be cannon fodder for the First Order, and everything she'd built for herself would be lost. With a steadying breath she granted herself the barest moment of reprieve, closing her eyes to help swallow down the stirrings of nausea. Then, when she opened them back up and the room looked fairly stabilized, she pushed herself up off the ground and grabbed the broken pieces of her lightsaber. She was going to go and leave it at that. Her friends counted on her. But there was one friend who had also counted on her that she had disappointed. She stopped in her escape and turned around. There he lay, sprawled across the floor just as she had been. How could his face appear so calm when inside, she knew, he was a tumultuous mess?

"I'm sorry," she whispered amongst the chaos and destruction and the constant _hiss_ of the sparking electricals. "I'm so very sorry, you must understand." But her words never reached his ears because the violence of the room was too loud, and killed them.

With that, she turned and raced her way to Snoke's private transport. He certainly wouldn't be needing it anymore.

Rey sighed as she sat forlorn at the _Falcon's_ helm, watching the blurred blue lines of hyperspace as they passed by in that tell-tale rush. She was alone; Chewie was resting, as was everyone else, and she had sought refuge in the cockpit to mourn the events on the _Supremacy_ before it had been cleaved asunder by Holdo. And before she'd denied Kylo Ren his offer. Things had certainly not panned out as expected - "This isn't going to go the way you think," Luke pleaded - but she wasn't sure if it was because of her or because of him. She had seen him turn from Snoke, and he had done that, surely, by murdering him, and yet he kept himself aligned with the First Order. He had not bowed, as she told him he wouldn't, and with chagrin she began to realize her interpretation of the vision had been wrong. Or, more accurately, she had assumed things from the vision because she had wanted to, had wanted to believe Ben Solo was resurrected from the grave and was about to turn the tide of the war in the Resistance's favor. All she had accomplished was giving Kylo Ren the lead role in the Order, and he was not the most stable of people.

She slammed a fist down on the console in frustration. She had been arrogant, just like Luke had said of the Jedi of old; she had wanted to make things right without understanding any of the machinations, but believed she could out of sheer force of will. She knew nothing of the Galaxy's history, or the Senate and the New Republic, or the First Order, for that matter. She knew nothing of Luke Skywalker and his past, or that of the Jedi's, of the way of their Order. She knew nothing of herself or her newfound powers. She knew nothing of Kylo Ren. And yet she had gone to the _Supremacy_ with misguided hope, all under the cover of pride. She had been a fool.

Now what? Everyone left alive to fight for the Resistance was able to fit - albeit it tightly - onto the Falcon, which was certainly no battle cruiser. Their numbers had been dwindled down to the barest reaches, their cruisers, support ships, bombers, X-wings, had all been wiped clean off the board by the military strength of the Order and Snoke's lethal command. Leia had said the pieces the Resistance needed were all right there, with them, but after everything that had transpired over the past 24 hours - the evacuation of D'Qar, but destruction of their headquarters, the loss of their entire bomber unit and half their X-wing fighters, the end of their military navy due to the inability to refuel, Holdo's suicide, her own failure with Ben, all of that and more - she didn't see how they could have any hope for the future. And she had turned her back on possibly her one chance to truly make a difference by joining the man in power, and she'd answered him by taking her lightsaber right from his grasp. She had been a fool to go to the _Supremacy_ in order to win over Ben Solo. Had she also been a fool when she turned down the offer of Kylo Ren?

Too late, the possibilities of what she could have done in a position of high power passed through her mind. With her at his side, perhaps Kylo Ren could be reasoned with, his decisions guided and tempered as they figured out a way to navigate the politics and problems of putting the Galaxy on a better course - for a better future. What if he'd already intended that to begin with? She slammed her fist on the console again, but in anger. She hadn't listened to Luke, and that was where all this confusion had begun. Now she couldn't be sure what was Light and what was Dark. Where did she go from here?

An hour later? Eight hours later? Five minutes? Chewie came up to the cockpit and took the co-pilot's seat. He gave her a sideways glance as he checked on the system and the navigational computer, and all the routine things a pilot and co-pilot do, over and over, out of pure habit. She knew what his gaze meant, though she quirked a brow in defiance and stayed sitting in the pilot's seat, even as she slumped from exhaustion.

"How about you give me a chance to fly this thing, huh," came the upbeat voice of Poe, who seemed impervious to fear or worry or sadness. "Chewie said he wanted to show me the ropes."

That really _did_ make Rey's eyebrow quirk because she knew that was a load of bantha crap, and Chewie's smirk confirmed it. It was all a plot to get her out of her comfortable hideaway and into bed to sleep. Chewie gave her a verbal push and she threw her hands up.

"Fine, fine, fine," she said pushing herself up from the seat by the armrests. "Sure, whatever. Take over Poe. Force me to sleep."

Poe smiled. "Nothing personal."

"No, it's quite all right," she said tightly and moved passed him, her nose in the air.

Her cot was located in the cargo hold - the only bed there, and the one she'd elected to take in order to have a lot of needed privacy. Having a Jedi for a brother Leia must have understood, because she quickly agreed to it. With a sigh, Rey flopped onto the end of it and began taking off her boots, undoing the laces slowly due to sleepiness. It was just after she fought down a large yawn that the sound of the void began ringing in her ears. _No_ , she thought desperately. _Please not now_.

Too late. Having also sensed the vacuum, Kylo Ren was already turning to face her, and when their eyes locked onto each other there was a ferociousness between them the likes of which Rey had never known. It was too much to say she hated him, but she was furious - what had he been thinking? The voice inside that asked her the same thing was quickly squashed under the boot of her rage.

His mouth worked from side to side, whether from anger or misery she couldn't tell. He looked her up and down, as if sizing her up for a battle, and it made the pit of her stomach give out. Was he looking for a fight, so soon after their last? Would he ever be done?

She looked exhausted, he noted, and there wasn't a lightsaber at her hip - a good and bad sign. Good because it meant she had no formal weapon, bad because it meant they had truly done damage to his grandfather's lightsaber. "Where is it," came the echo of his deep voice through the Force.

She didn't need to ask; she knew immediately what he meant. "Safe," was all she'd let him have by way of easing his mind.

"And the kyber?" It was the most important part. As long as it survived, his grandfather's legacy would live on.

The question confused her. There was a slight furrow in her brow, and she'd frozen in her activities of idly unlacing her boots. "The what?"

He sighed - so untrained. _But so powerful_ , came the thought in the back of his mind, unbidden. _If you could teach her_ \- "The crystal. The blue crystal kept inside the handle."

Comprehension eased the tension in her face. "Yes, I know it. A ky-ber, it's called," she let the word sit on her tongue a moment, soaking it in, committing the Jedi vocabulary to memory. "It's intact."

He nearly sighed with relief, but caught himself. Still, it was good news - great news. He could rebuild the rest of the saber with ease. The kyber was always the most important part in any lightsaber.

Silence descended between them like a Grim Reaper, heavy and morbid. They both looked like they had so much to say, yet neither wanted to utter a word. Between them existed a lot of stubbornness of personality and a lot of strength of will. Rey turned from him slightly and finally finished removing both of her boots, which she set to the side of her cot. Still stiff with stubbornness, she stood and quickly shook out her thin, wooly blanket, and then she made to climb in and go to sleep and let the connection die all of its own accord.

"Why couldn't you say yes," his voice echoed across time and space.

She was half way into her bed already when his words stilled her. She raised her eyes sadly, gently, and met his gaze. What could she say? That she had just been sitting down for a good think and realizing she may have made a grave error in turning away from him? That she was beginning to seriously think about the opportunities that would've been open to her if she'd said yes, and was at that very moment by his side in the _Finalizer's_ war room, drafting plans together?

That truth was too heavy for either of them to process; she could barely wrap her head around what her own mind was trying to do in concerns to that topic. So, instead she said, "You told me that night I wasn't alone. And I told you you weren't alone, either. I meant what I said. You should know how loyal I am to my friends."

He did not meet her eyes, though they bore into him like a knife, stabbing at his loneliness and pride. Why had he said such a ridiculous thing? And why did her kind reminder make him remember so well the vision he'd seen when they'd touched fingers? To quell the rising sentiment, he brought up his hurt, which churned into anger. "Your friends," he said the second word harshly, as he had done when interrogating her in his torture chamber, "are more important than the fate of the Galaxy? You saved them, and? What if hundreds - thousands of others die in this war. You can live with that?"

She did not like how he made it sound - like the war was her fault, like the _Resistance_ was her fault. Not too long ago she had been a simple scavenger on Jakku waiting for the return of a private ship to call her home. All that aside, was he trying to say she should've simply let her friends die? "Have you no loyalty?" she sneered.

"I'm loyal to my ambition, something a scavenger wouldn't understand."

Her mouth thinned as she clenched her jaw. "Is that what you think? That I'm a simpleton with no dreams?"

"You gave your life over to living on that hunk of sand and misery all in hopes of your parents returning. That was enough for you." His mouth worked in frustration. "Look where it got you."

She huffed, "Yes, the love of my parents - thinking they'd return to take me back in their loving arms - was enough for me." She set her chin defiantly. "Why wasn't it enough for you?"

He tightened his fist and squeezed in some unconscious attempt to wring her neck, choke her like he so often and enjoyably choked the cur that hounded his heels. What he wouldn't give to see her knowing, piercing gaze roll up into the back of her eyelids while desperately grasping at her throat, the color quickly rising in her face while her lips blanched deathly white. He was growing so weary of her insight into his thoughts and feelings, of the digs and jabs she threw verbally that cut him to the quick. There was no mistake Kylo Ren had been burned in his life and wounded by those he loved, but she was certainly slicing him open in ways he had never thought possible.

"You know nothing, Jedi," he spit the epithet like a curse. "You gravitated towards Han Solo like a kicked animal, pathetic and mewling. And what? He told you you were a good pilot and gave you a pat on the head and his signature smirk, and you think that makes him a good father? You think you know all there is to know?"

Stung, she stepped backward, blinking furiously at the rising moisture in her eyes. How badly she had wanted to cling to Han Solo and Chewie and the _Falcon_ as a home she was returning to after a string of long, lonely years. It had been so natural. Felt so good. But she realized part of what Kylo Ren said was true: she had been a wounded animal that would've been content with anyone that reached out a kind hand. She would've followed anyone home - like a lost kitten - if they'd been even remotely decent. A family - it was all she desired. It didn't even matter if she knew the person or people or not; if they gave her the chance, like Han Solo had offered - that blissful offer to board his ship and fly with him - she would feel connected to them and form a friendship to quench her starving soul. And she had done. Han Solo had become a surrogate father in a matter of days, and she took his death like she had actually been his daughter. But none of it was true. She was nobody, as she had so cruelly admitted to herself. She came from nothing, as Kylo Ren so brutally pointed out. How could she ever belong anywhere?

"But you've always had a home," she said quietly, swiping at her eyes angrily. "With the likes of your parents, you must have lived comfortably. You could have anything you wanted. You were going to grow up to be a world leader _and_ a Jedi. That wasn't enough, either."

"Being a pampered prince or gluttonous Senator is not what I wanted," he ground out through stubbornly grit teeth. "So, no, it wasn't enough. Don't you understand?"

"No," she said with a sudden burst of exasperation, throwing her hands up. "No! No, I don't understand. Explain it to me because apparently I'm just a stupid scavenger. I'm not smart enough to puzzle it out."

On that she was wrong. She was far from stupid, far from not smart enough, and he knew it well as the constant victim of her wit and powers of perception and empathy that gave her a profoundly worldly knowledge of people - of him. Where these qualities were his biggest weakness, they were her greatest strengths. She read people like books. And he relied on stoicism and - if necessary - violence to navigate interactions with people. They were so foreign and unknowable to him. But she picked up on their tells and their thoughts inherently through her unique connection to the Force.

He hated it.

He hated how her hazel eyes dissected him so clinically, with such precision it went straight to the bone. She exposed him. She made him vulnerable. It was difficult to look her in the eye. She had called him a monster, and he was. She had sensed he was conflicted, and he was. She sensed there still lingered remnants of Ben Solo, and there did. She sensed he wanted redemption.

He did.

How could someone know him so well, but for so little time?

"I want to change the Galaxy," he said imploringly, advancing towards her. "I want to end this useless cycle of the Sith, the Jedi, the Empire, the Rebels. It only tears the Galaxy apart, creating misery and death and _spilling blood in its wake_ ," he spoke with so much emphasis on those last words his fist shook. "Surely you feel it."

She swallowed. He meant _felt_ it - through the Force. The way it jerked and tugged at odd moments that would make her dizzy if she concentrated on them for too long and let them in. There was a natural cycle of life and death that occurred because it needed to - because it should. But then were incongruous occurrences that sent ripples throughout the Force that anyone sensitive might feel, as if someone were reaching in a sly finger and plucking a dissonant heart string for fun. It was lurching and awful, and she quickly closed herself off from it to avoid dry heaving due to an empty stomach.

"You do," his low tone echoed, booming in her ears at the same time.

"Yes, I do," she said with a gasp of air from the lingering hints of pain. "I do." The prickles along the base of her neck were so blinding she'd doubled over, hands on her knees. When she looked up to search his face - to really read his intentions and perhaps help her decide on the path forward - he was gone.


	2. Chapter Two

Star Wars: Division

I just posted the first chapter yesterday, but I'm going to be on vacation for the rest of the week, so I thought I'd post Chapter Two before I left. As I said previously, I've been out of the fanfiction game for a long time, so some of the new lingo and phrasing is stuff I'm learning as I go. I just wanted to note, in case it wasn't obvious, this will be one of those slow-burn type stories. I've actually got a lot in mind for this, so I wouldn't be surprised if it reached 30+ chapters. It will basically be a book - haha! - because I can't stop thinking on such a grand scale. The most shocking thing, though - 4 followers! Can I say I'm completely gobsmacked? Brand new person on the site, new account, just one story up, and I have 4 people following this project. I'm honored, truly - flattered! Thank you to my followers. It's appreciated. Enjoy, please.

Chapter Two

The Force didn't lie. It couldn't. Had he seen only what he wanted to see, like a waking dream? Had his soul been so desperate for her partnership that the Force took pity and gave it to him? No - the Force was an unbiased bystander. It cared not for the whims and wants of its wielders. It showed what was, and what could be, and personal desires had nothing to do with it. But she had turned away from him. As he reached out his hand to take hers and truly bind them together, she had reached out hers to take back the lightsaber. And if it had gone to her completely, as it had done on Takodana, what would she have done? Slain him? That would've been very un-Jedi like indeed. Perhaps she merely wanted it for defense so she could flee him without consequence. But there had been intent in her - he'd felt it. Disappointment and desperation that were churning together inside her to become violence. She had an alluring darkness within that he recognized.

Sometimes it was something he could lose himself in and savor, as his mother did in his childhood memories, sipping Coruscant Black after back to back meetings that took up all her time and energy. Slumped in some fashionably angled, modern chair, she'd sip and sip and sip with a glazed look over her eyes that had, as a boy, worried him. Now, it was a look he found himself relating to all too well.

Other times her darkness was something he found himself lamenting; he had accused her of lacking ambition, and he had spent his entire life climbing an abstract ladder of power and politics to finally reach the pinnacle, and yet he occasionally caught himself thinking about the simpler lives of simpler people. Rey had been one such person, eking out a life scavenging on Jakku, doing the best she could, hoping for the day her parents would return, and worrying about and knowing nothing else. The simplicity of such a mundane life did have - at times - its attractive qualities. Moments like when he felt impotent and furious after suffering punishment under Snoke's brutal tutelage, or when neither of his parents could be found at home, pulled away from their marriage and parental responsibilities by occupations that suited them better. A simple life. It was such an unimaginable thing to a person so chewed up in their own desire - and pain.

Rey had started out in that life, though, and had greatness thrust upon her by Fate. And she was powerful and had so much potential, and if she would just stop being so _obstinate_ he could - But the point being, he had had small moments, no more than a flash of time, in which he pitied her for the twist Fate had placed upon her shoulders. Or was it Destiny? Either way, some small pity.

 _But it brought her to you._

He grit his teeth. During a one-on-one meeting with his General was certainly not the time to give in to these weak thoughts.

"So, what you're telling me, Hux, is that everything has been going according to plan in regards to our Senators?"

"Yes, Supreme Leader. As we speak, the - "

Kylo Ren raised a hand, and Hux quickly fell silent. "Is this the only news you can bring me, General?"

The color - if there were any to begin with - slowly drained from his face, starting from his hairline straight down to his chin. "Well, Supreme Leader, it's certainly good news, especially after the failure on - "

His fingers curled menacingly, and Hux swallowed; the pressure of Kylo Ren's fingertips pressed upon his windpipe. A threat. "Answer the question, General."

Hux quickly nodded his head in submission. "Yes, Supreme Leader."

"And the remnants of the Resistance, General," he said, uncurling his fingers and letting his hand return to rest upon the war room's steel table top. "Why haven't your forces located them, yet?"

Hux very much wanted to run from the room. In the past, Kylo Ren's outbursts of temper had been widespread occurrences. They could be provoked by just about anything that disappointed the Dark Force wielder, and often resulted in damaged equipment, walls, ship parts, and droids. But since having shouldered the mantle of Supreme Leader, he always seemed oddly cold and level and distant. It was the sort of stance Hux expected from a great leader like Snoke, not the likes of some impassioned fool who could never put a stop to his emotions. It was this change that scared Hux the most because he didn't feel like he could read him anymore, he didn't feel like he saw his weaknesses. Nothing was exposed. Kylo Ren had shut the doors and drawn in on himself.

"They are a small group, Supreme Leader. It can be difficult locating such a small band of scum when the Galaxy is such a large place to search. But my forces are doing their best, I can assure you. We all want to see the Resistance's final day."

Kylo Ren sat with fingers pressed to his lips in thought, his elbow resting on the table with his head leaned towards it. Again, Hux had the impression that the figure before him was changed, drastically so, and he may soon find himself completely under Snoke's ex-apprentice's thumb if he didn't quickly find a way to dispatch of him.

"That will be all, General," Kylo Ren said with a wave of his hand. "Return to me when you have real news."

"Supreme Leader," Hux said, chin up, arms straight down at his sides, and then he marched out to return to the bridge.

"Where are you," he said menacingly into the still air of the empty room. He didn't need to worry about the Senators and their respective planets joining the First Order when it had been orchestrated all along. To hear those plans were going accordingly was the same as telling him stormtroopers wore white armor - it was known fact, nothing new. What he wanted was the location of the band of misfits that had escaped Crait due to Luke Skywalker's absurd heroics. They'd foiled him again, those heroics. It would be so much easier if these fools would stop self-sacrificing.

"Supreme Leader," came a lieutenant's voice over the comm system. "Senator Sindian wishes to speak with you about going forward with preparations for military rearmament, and the trade routes she'd discussed with Supreme Leader Snoke."

Kylo Ren stood; he hated dealing with politics, Senators most of all. They had an annoying habit of reminding him of where he came from, and he hated re-visiting his past. And except for a rare few that legitimately cared about the welfare of their people, planet, and the rest of the Republic, they were all greasy, duplicitous, two-faced thieves, out to make deals behind the Republic's back and line their pockets with credits. The thought made him sneer; and his mother had given over her life to trying to combat that level of corruption, as if she could. Instead, all she'd combatted was her son.

"Patch her through to my private comm system in my rooms. I'll speak with the Senator there."

"Of course, Supreme Leader. She is on hold on your personal holo-display."

As much as he hated dealing with it, the politics had to be addressed to keep the fat Senators not just fat and happy, but stupid as well.

"See," came the irritatingly chipper sound of Poe's voice. Did he never quit smirking or grinning or bouncing about? "A bit of sleep did you good, huh?"

He sat himself down next to Rey, who was slightly hunched over her meager breakfast and exhausted. Sleeping hadn't "done her good" because all that sleeping had brought were whispers through the Force from people and faces she didn't know, images and feelings that didn't make sense together, swirls of color she couldn't identify. After tossing and turning for hours, she gave up and decided to at least do something about the empty pit of her stomach.

"Yeah," she said with a little nod. "It wasn't too bad."

Poe's shoulders relaxed a bit, and he clapped a hand on hers; it was as stiff as a rock. "Hey, I know you've been having a rough time. Finn filled me in on how you two met, and you getting kidnapped by Ren, and then Han - "

The mention of Han's name made her frown.

"Sorry," he said quickly, realizing bringing up painful memories during an inspirational pep talk wasn't the greatest idea. "The point is, Rey, try not to push yourself. The Resistance - hell, the _Galaxy_ \- is going to need you now more than ever. Jedi." The corner of his mouth pulled up in a charming grin.

Funny how a word could be both a blessing and a curse. From Poe's mouth, the word Jedi gave her pride and a sense of honor. It made her feel important, strong, and like she could actually fight in this war and do something good. From Kylo Ren's mouth, it had been belittling - condescending. It made her feel awful to associate with an Order that had so many faults and had never been able to admit to them. It made her feel like a villain, even with the dark, looming figure of Kylo Ren before her. The violence of his scar was so bright on his pale skin and it looked at her in accusation, the Jedi who had done it. Did she even want to _be_ a Jedi?

"Poe! Leia wants to see us. Rey - " Finn said, holding up a hand as soon as Rey's head spun around to look at him. "She wants you to rest and eat. We'll fill you in later, okay?"

Poe clapped his hands on the table. "All right, buddy, let's go. See you Rey. Eat up!"

The two left her alone.

Alone. How could she be so alone, and feel so alone, on a ship nearly packed with people.

 _And you didn't fail Kylo Ren_ , echoed the words of a much more naive Rey in the back of her mind as she went through the motions of eating. _Kylo Ren failed you. I won't._ So confident, so sure. She had known nothing, then. Only hours later, Luke was telling her about his failure, about his near assassination of his own nephew. She stared down into her empty bowl, as if surprised it was empty. How had things gotten so complicated? In a burst of frustration, she sent the bowl flying across the room where it smashed against the wall. Disgruntled and confused and humiliated by her own words, she got up and retreated to her room.

Back in the cargo hold, sitting on the edge of the cot, she held the two pieces of the lightsaber in her hand and felt ready to cry. Even if she did want to be a Jedi, she had no weapon, and the texts she'd taken from the sacred Tree had nothing on lightsaber repairs, as far as she'd seen. It did mention the kyber crystals - crystals naturally attuned to the Light side of the Force which powered all Force-wielders' lightsabers - but it had nothing on the actual construction of it. Or else, she had been too impatient when flipping through the pages, panicking, to find it. She needed to go through them slowly, but her nerves were still on edge, and her mind always felt misaligned. Crait had just happened - it had barely been a day. She felt raw.

From inside one half of the broken lightsaber, the blue kyber crystal hummed and glowed. Curious, she carefully reached in and pulled it free to examine it. It felt alive. Seeing it before her, listening to its voice filled with hums and vibrations, she realized it was the _crystal_ that had shown her the visions on Takodana, in Maz's watering hole. When she had gripped the hilt, it had spoken to her. It spoke to her now; it had a calming effect on her mind.

Then, the familiar rush of the sound vacuum snapped her focus away from the crystal.

Kylo Ren looked up from his seat at his desk. "I'm very busy," came his voice, grave with concentration.

"So am I," she said back, unphased.

He was sitting at an angle sideways to her, so to get a good look he had to twist his body a bit. But he did because her being busy intrigued him. "The lightsaber?" he said, taking an educated guess.

"How did you - "

"Because if I were you," he said almost lazily, "repairing my weapon would be my first priority, too. Especially with a monster hunting me."

"Don't do that." Already she was irritated.

"Do what?"

He stared at her.

She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his eyes. "Stop it."

Amused, a huff of air came out his nose. "What am I doing?"

 _I don't know, but it feels like you're reaching into my soul and I_ \- "Nothing, nevermind. You do your work, I'll do mine."

But neither of them made as if to return to their work.

"Why hasn't this stopped? I thought Snoke was the one doing this, and he's dead." Of course, she didn't want it to stop, but she needed to feign disinterest for decorum's sake.

There was a look in his eye, something she couldn't place. Curiosity? Mirth? "I wondered about that myself. I don't think it was Snoke who did this - not all of it. I think it started with you."

"Me," she questioned in surprise. "Me? How would I - " But then the scene came to her mind. Kylo Ren's outstretched hand pouring the Force bent upon his will into her mind to gain the location of Luke's whereabouts. How she had refused and resisted, and eventually there came unexpected thoughts and feelings that were not her own. How fearful Kylo Ren had looked, then - how sad.

"I wondered why the Force was connecting us. That night, when our fingers touched, when I saw the future, I thought I'd had my answer. To unite us in the singular cause of bringing peace to the Galaxy. And Snoke wanted to take credit for that," he snorted in bitterness.

"But we aren't united," she said stubbornly. "You chose the First Order."

"I didn't choose them," he continued, his temper rising, his words full of _gravitas_. "I chose a future in which you and I could lead this system to harmony. I asked you to join me. I chose you!" He'd risen from his seat and advanced towards her, and she'd stood up, instinctively, to try and back away, but ended up tripping on her cot and sitting right back down. He leered over her. "And you - " his lips twisted as he said the words. "You and your friends and that joke of a movement Leia leads!"

She stood, glaring at him. "It isn't a joke. Your mother is the only person left really fighting for the future of the Republic. I have to support her because without her the Galaxy would see the rise of another Empire, slaughtering people and exploiting planetary resources for selfish gain, while native peoples starve and become enslaved!" How she wanted her lightsaber; how she wanted to fight him and vent these nameless, rage-filled emotions! "Order through fear and domination. That's the joke!"

She stood huffing. All he did was stand there and watch with a shadow cast across his features.

"And I don't know," she continued, "how you can continue to defend the First Order after you murdered its leader! Why have you taken his place? You were free of him and his organization and all those vipers, and yet you assumed the leadership. To what end?"

He took a deep breath. "It's the way of the Dark Side. An apprentice's final test is always to kill their Master." He thinks upon the stories from his childhood - the stories of Darth Vader. "Darth Vader was never able to beat Sidious, and in the end he never truly achieved his aims. I did not want to make the same mistake. I had always intended to kill Snoke."

"But why? How does one gain anything from killing their own Master?"

"It's the final measure of one's dedication, purpose, drive, passion - " he paused with his fingers gently cresting over the curves of his lightsaber, latched onto his hip. "And hatred."

"But that isn't all you know. I've seen your mind. I believe you had always intended to kill him, but I won't believe it was for some Dark Side initiation." She took an urgent step towards him. "You can't hide from me."

It was true. She had delved into his mind in such a way that made him uncomfortable; a Sith's mind should be cloaked like an assassin, an unseeable, unknowable figure flitting between the cover of shadows. In his own crafty way, he had kept this between Snoke and himself. Like all Masters, Snoke was arrogant. As was the case for many Force users for the Dark _and_ Light, his arrogance had been his downfall. But this veil had been pierced by the fiery reach of her own mind and powers, and it had singed the barrier he kept erected between the outside world and himself. A true Sith's mind was hard and black, but where she had touched - where she had _burned_ \- the embers lay there still, twinkling with reds and oranges and gold.

"It's true. I can't," he said honestly. What would be the point of lying? But - "The things you've seen, I could never hide them. But there's so much your Jedi touch did not reach."

She furrowed her brows, and he sees in her eyes she knows that's the truth. How could she know everything about him? His thoughts? His purpose? The time they had spent together was intimate, there was no questioning it, but it had been brief, as well. Time is the revealer of all things, and between them there was so very little.

"I know your feelings," she insisted. "They weigh upon me. I cannot give up on you."

"I will strengthen my resolve."

She shook her head confidently. Smugly. "You've had a long time to strengthen your resolve, a long time since you fled Master Skywalker. And in all that time you have stayed conflicted."

Her insight into matters she was only just becoming acquainted with irritated him.

She stepped closer, too close. With the barest moment of hesitation, she reached out to him, placed a hand on his upper arm comfortingly. "Let me help you."

But by some odd acquiescence of grace, he was saved further conversation as the link drifted and then ended.


	3. Chapter Three

Star Wars: Division

I'm really floored by the response this story has gotten - 11 followers? Wow, that's just fantastic. Thanks for the follows, the favorites, and the review. To all my readers: please enjoy.

Chapter Three

"Do I haunt you in your dreams, Jedi? Standing before you now, am I a waking nightmare?"

 _Yes_ , she thought angrily. _No_ , whispered her heart tragically. He haunted her - everything about him. His turn from the Light side because of one mistake from his Master, his ruthless reputation as the creature Kylo Ren, his lack of remorse for his patricide. But their conversations, his tells, his fears - they also haunted her. How he truly wanted peace for the Galaxy and balance in the Force. How he stared at her with such incredibly deep eyes. How his hand felt to touch. How he had never held a grudge against her for marring his face. How he seemed so open in their moments together in the Force. And yes, in her dream last night, when she relived the moment of seeing him bare chested, and -

"No," she lied. She kept her eyes fixed upon the Jedi text in her hand in feigned interest. He couldn't know her real thoughts. And standing before him, with his eyes boring down on her, she never would've been able to feign anything if she met his gaze.

"You haunt me."

Rey's hand froze mid air as she turned a page. She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

"I will find you," he continued, his voice like the incantation for some dark, lustrous ritual.

Still frozen in place, dumbfounded by this black, obsessive-colored honesty, she shot back barely above a whisper, "I can't let you do that."

"Rey - " he pressed his forehead against hers, hands gripping her upper arms firmly.

The book fell from her hold.

"Ben, I - " she paused. Why did something feel so very out of place within him? "What's the matter?"

She looked up. The link between them had closed. But she still felt the press of his body against hers, his fingers curled around her flesh.

Dazed, she bent forward to retrieve the ancient book and closed it, then turned to set it back on the pile. One moment she'd been pacing the cargo hold, re-reading a page on Jedi meditation that was escaping her understanding, and the next she'd nearly walked into him as the Force suddenly placed them together, across time and space. He'd seemed so volatile, so dangerous. She'd wondered what had happened to set him on edge. Had she asked? She couldn't even remember. It was as if his touch had completely burned away their conversation, and only that moment of their skin touching remained. What had he been about to do?

She sat on the edge of her cot and puzzled over what had passed between them as she slipped on her boots. There was a meeting being held in the common area, and it seemed like Leia was going to give them very important - very good - news.

As it usually occurred, she was the last to arrive, though no one said anything. They merely smiled as she came in and stood next to Finn.

Leia had a small smile on her face; a rarity. "Good news, everyone. I've managed to broker a deal with an old friend who sympathizes with our plight. He's going to supply us with a _TL-1200_ transport ship, ten X-Wings, and a handful of recruits that want to join our rebel band, some with experience."

The faces of everyone around the cramped room lit up with first disbelief, then hope, and then came to rest on joy. It really was good news. And it was exactly the sort of thing they needed to hear in order for them to continue on fighting in this war. Morale had shrunk to near nonexistence after the Battle of Crait. Even though they'd escaped with their lives, some in the room had been contemplating fleeing the remaining Resistance group. Rey had heard their thoughts even though she had not wanted or tried to. Their anxiety and despair made their thoughts ever so present in the Force. It was a relief to her, personally, to see the faces of those members at ease in the Resistance's collective moment of happiness.

"In one standard cycle, we will be rendezvousing with him on the planet of Batuu, at an old outpost called Blackspire. We're going to make the transfer there, and also take some time to refuel, restock, and recharge. Our group will be split between the _Falcon_ and the _TL_ which should give everyone their own personal space. I'll be dividing everyone up in a couple hours and assigning posts."

It would certainly be a welcome change from what they'd all been suffering from due to the limited space of the _Falcon_. Rey was looking forward to having a proper bed and not being surrounded by freight boxes.

"This is just the first step," Leia said as she looked into each of their faces. "This is the start of our comeback. It has been hard the past week, but we survived. And now, we'll return stronger than ever."

Everyone assembled gave a loud cheer, fists pumped into the air.

The General smiled. "That's all for now, everyone. Dismissed."

A hum of excited conversation filled the room. Rose and Finn had embraced in a burst of emotion, jumping up and down while they both grinned from ear to ear. Next to Poe, BB-8's lights were flashing as the droid _whirred_ with the same level of jubilation as his human counterparts. "Exciting stuff," Poe said next to her. "I can't wait to get back into the seat of an X-Wing."

Rey smiled, showing all her teeth. "Who's Poe Dameron without a fighter to call his own?"

He laughed. "Exactly! We all know I'm not good for anything else." When Rose and Finn separated from their hug and turned towards their two friends, Poe continued. "As soon as we land and get to that outpost, drinks are on me 'cause this calls for a celebration!"

The responsibility that she'd been carrying on her shoulders suddenly fell away in the face of good news and the happiness all around her. Between her lack of sleep, poor eating habits, and the random trysts with the enemy whenever the Force sought fit to see them connected, she was an exhausted, frayed, bundle of mess. Plagued by bad dreams, unable to fix her lightsaber, and forever confused about the man called Kylo Ren, it was a wonder she had not lost her mind completely. To finally have this piece of good news meant more to her than it could possibly mean to anyone else on that ship at that moment. Everyone had suffered, but none suffered like her. It was the curse of being who she was, a curse that was also a blessing. She was beginning to understand why Luke had run away all those years ago after he'd failed as a Master and his star pupil was lost. To be the lone figure everyone relied on, looked up to, expected to always be the hero and to always succeed, was a difficult burden to bear, but was especially overwhelming when failure presented itself. Luke had felt like a failure to his sister, his friend - to everyone. To the entire Jedi Order. And in his shame, he fled, unable to face that fact.

Rey had, after his passing, stepped into that very same role. Now The Last Jedi, her name was being spread across the Galaxy in conjunction with the stories of Supreme Leader Snoke's death, and the death of her Master, the great Luke Skywalker. Destiny was upon her; she was no longer the naive, but persistent and hopeful scavenger girl from Jakku. She was becoming a figure of power and strength for those wishing to fight the First Order to rally around and believe in. She didn't want to let any of these people down - she wanted to be the hero everyone was already whispering she was. But she couldn't even fix her lightsaber. The pressure had been mounting for so long, her need to perform some task in order to continue to prove to everyone she was exactly what they thought she was had begun to drown her. Before Leia's announcement, she was all they had had.

It was a reprieve to hear everyone laughing and see everyone energetic. The members of the Resistance were reborn, including her. She could do this. The Resistance could do this. It was no longer impossible.

He watched his Commander take the same walk he'd taken so many times when Snoke had summoned _him_ to the throne room. Though the Commander was projecting calm austerity, with his hands clasped behind his back in the same fashion Hux did, his Supreme Leader sensed his underlying terror. It permeated his very being - and it should.

When he reached the end of the walk way he stood at attention, his heels clicking together sharply. "Supreme Leader," he said with puffed up dignity.

"Commander," he replied. He regarded the man in the same way Snoke had always regarded him from his black, soulless throne - like a squirming, pathetic weakling. Kylo Ren sat the throne, now. It was his own personal luxury to turn that kind of gaze upon someone else, after suffering under it for so long himself.

Silence filled the room. Kylo Ren wanted to give his officer ample time to soak in the appearance of his new leader, and the room he commanded with its bleeding red walls, and black hole-like floors. The colors of the Dark Side - colors of a Sith.

The fear poured off the man in waves.

"Remind me, Commander," he said into the oppressive silence, "when did I give you authority of the Knights of Ren?"

Sweat lined his forehead. "You did not, Supreme Leader."

"Yet," Kylo Ren continued coldly, "I received a report from one of my Knights that you'd administered orders during the incursion of the mining planet. Is this true?"

The worm shifted from foot to foot nervously. "Y-y-yes, Supreme Leader."

Kylo Ren rose. "Are you planning on taking my place, then, Commander? Wanted to get a taste for what it would feel like to command them - as I do?"

The Commander bowed his head. "Of course not, Supreme Leader."

Deferential fool. Looking at him so cowed and weak reminded him of his own behavior as he had knelt before Snoke all those times he made mistakes. How pathetic he must have looked; the same way this man looked. Humiliation and resentment came up from the depths of his memories, and pushed him deeper into hatred. Hatred of himself, hatred of how sad he had been, hatred of this idiot of a man who was all too painfully reminding him of what he'd endured because he hadn't been strong enough to do anything.

With a tight grip, he lifted the Commander off the floor by his throat. Ignoring the man's choking, he proclaimed, "They are _my_ assassins, Commander. Only I give them orders. If you ever attempt to assume my role again, I will execute you without hesitation for treason. Am I clear?" he roared. It's inhuman quality suffused the room.

All the Commander could do was croak to death on his own tongue.

With a sneer, Kylo Ren released him, and watched him fall to the floor, grasping at his throat, doubled over like a four-legged animal. Had he ever appeared so useless? That thought alone made him want to make good on his words and execute the man right then and there. It'd be nice to feel his saber immolate its way through yielding, soft flesh.

He turned and made to return to his throne.

"It was - " the man coughed, saliva dripping from his purpled lips. "Hux. It was Hux," he cried out.

Kylo Ren paused. "Explain."

There was more coughing, more heaving, but eventually the Commander was able to regain enough composure to hoarsely spew the sentence, "When the miners revolted, I asked Hux to relay that information to you. I asked for permission to lead the Knights through the encounter in your absence."

It was the first Kylo Ren was hearing this. "Go on."

"He said you couldn't be disturbed, but to do so in order to quell the miners as quickly as possible."

So, without actually asking for the Supreme Leader's permission - or indeed, without even passing along the information of the Commander's request - Hux had advised him to use the Knights knowing full well the Commander would be in trouble once they returned to their true leader and informed him. Why would Hux want the Commander in trouble?

"Tell me, Commander. Do you and the General get along?"

"Not," a quick cough. "Not usually, no."

"That will be all, Commander. Return to your ship."

He picked himself up off the floor and left.

The Commander's words festered in his mind like bacteria on a corpse. Why would Hux pass along a false order to the Commander, except to throw him at the mercy of Kylo Ren's wrath? Did he want the Commander dead? It was certainly not a surprise that Hux should be plotting something, and that this could be a piece of his grand scheme, but why else would he want the Commander gone except that the Commander would not side with him in his plans to overthrow their Supreme Leader? So, the plot was to weed out all the loyalists and have them disposed of, opening the way for Hux and his backers to murder him.

The problem was, Hux had to know the Commander would say exactly what he said, and he would never inadvertently implicate himself in the plot of a _coup_. He was a rabid dog, yes, but a very sly, deceptive one. That's why Snoke had liked him so much, even as he clashed with his apprentice. It just didn't sound like Hux - too sloppy. Were they working together, then? Was this a smokescreen for something else?

Kylo Ren slammed his fist upon his table, safe behind doors in the comfort of his personal suite. Treachery ran amok of the _Finalizer_ , and he needed to get to the bottom of it or risk falling victim to his subordinates just as Snoke had. He'd be damned if he'd be the arrogant fool Snoke was, and let someone kill him right under his nose.

For hours, his thoughts went in circles, trying to puzzle out exactly what was going on, but always coming to the same conclusion that he didn't have enough information to do so. Along the way, the horrifying prospect that Hux had gotten to his Knights and turned them against him had flashed across his mind - could they be turned against him? His own Uncle had, so why not them? Was no one on his side?

No, of course they were loyal to him. Of course they were.

But the seed had been planted. It had taken root in his mind.

Alone. Still dreadfully alone in the ink of outer space.

He needed to see her. He _had_ to. The idea that everyone aboard his ship was trying to kill him drove him to momentary insanity, paired with all the symptoms of clinical paranoia. But though he needed it, the Force did not connect them. Not for a very long time. Too long.

When it finally did, she was at ease, in stark contrast to the plague that fogged his mind. She was doing nothing nefarious, as he feared every crew member on the _Finalizer_ was. She was just reading from the ancient Jedi texts he'd seen Luke studying in the temple. Just the sight of her -

"Do I haunt you in your dreams, Jedi?" he heard himself asking, his mind in a dark place, in a place that needed to hear of the darkness of others to feed off of it like a parasite. "Standing before you now, am I a waking nightmare?" He felt like one. He felt wretched. Tainted. Not good for her.

 _But I need her_. He couldn't give her up.

"No," she said coolly.

Should that word tear him apart, or put him back together?

"You haunt me," he divulged.

A shiver ran down her spine.

He growled. "I will find you."

As adept as ever at driving him crazy with her strength of will, she said lowly, "I can't let you do that."

The fire that burned within her - if he stepped into it, would it purify his soul?

What little gap had been between them, he closed in a flash and grabbed her, grabbed her as fiercely has he had wanted to do so many times before. Every time she defied him, every time she looked at him. "Rey - " he allowed himself that intimate chance to speak her name as he touched his forehead to hers.

"Ben, I - What's the matter?" Her voice was so tender. He couldn't remember the last time such a fond tone had reached his ears, and so full of concern. Why did such a strong warrior have to sound so delicate with longing when he was doing everything in his power not to crush her in his hands and consume her?

The Force couldn't keep the connection alive; the intensity of emotion between them overwhelmed It.


	4. Chapter Four

Star Wars: Division

This chapter is dedicated to all the wonderful followers of this story - all 16 of them! (Wow!)

Steelnchase, Imsdahlfamily, LiliLalaLu, Music96, WriteFilmEdit, mariannagkolfou, Gumby0677, Meshale, littleluny, Rashel Shiru, ClumsyAme, IceFire Dragon Alchemist73, ACourtofdarkandlight , mrb90game, onailujol, Pjyenn

I appreciate it! Thanks so much. Please feel free to leave a review.

Chapter Four

In his grasp - in his grasp and at his mercy, his weight pressed against her supple body, she had accepted him. Her skin and his skin both hot to the touch. She had not backed away, as he might have expected; she hadn't even been afraid. With their foreheads together, her words were said so intimately - just like words passing between lovers in the dead of night as they lay wrapped around one another. So soft, so tender, her concern for his well being had been there, in the spaces between her whispered words. They were all he could think about. _What's the matter_ , she said in his ear, over and over as he lay in bed. It would be a sleepless night. All he wanted was to see her again, and not in his mind's eye, but standing before him. Would she let him touch her like that again? Would she let him do more?

Batuu was a lush planet characterized by the dense deciduous trees that filled the landscape with their dark green color. It also had a lot of mountain formations, looking similar to Takodana, except where Takodana was bright green, with rivers of twinkling blue waters, Batuu was dark and blanketed by mists and fogs that clung to the tops of the trees, its rocky, mountainous formations cutting the sky in jagged lines. It had an ancient feeling, old and mysterious like Ahch'To, as if some power lay dormant beneath the earth that was only waiting to be released.

More and more, Rey realized how massive the Galaxy was, and just how very little she'd known about it growing up on Jakku. Heat and grit and rusting metal were all she had known of landscapes. And now she was exploring worlds filled to overflowing with life and sentience. As the _Falcon_ cleared the planet's atmosphere, and the sky stretched out before them, Rey saw the silhouette of so many birds off in the distance, flying up north for food, or perhaps water. They crested the tree tops and flew directly into the mist and disappeared from view.

"Have you ever seen anything so…," she licked her lips. "Alive?"

Chewbacca had heard her say something similar when she first caught sight of Takodana. He looked at his co-pilot and saw the same glimmer in her eye, that same brightness of color that wasn't merely due to the sun reflecting off the _Falcon's_ viewport window. It was an inner energy that Rey possessed that lit her eyes from inside, so that the golds that made up her hazel irises always seemed to shine.

"You should see my home planet, someday," Chewbacca said in his usual Wookie roar.

Rey turned her youthful gaze upon him and he grew nostalgic for those happier, freer days before the Clone Wars some six decades ago. The Empire had ruined his homeworld, Kashyyyk, in its 30 years of rule. And in the last 30 years under the New Republic, it was finally returning to its full glory after being mercilessly mined and harvested. He often wondered, though, if it would ever be as it was in that era before the Empire. Would the Wookies recover? They lived long lives, and so they had long memories, and the memories the Empire had left were traumatic and twisted.

"Really? Is it like this?" Her genuine interest was endearing.

He nodded and rolled his vocals in assent. "Better," he said with a touch of smugness. Nothing would ever compare to the forests of Kashyyyk.

She smiled and showed her teeth. "Then you'll have to show me. You must."

He would try, certainly, if he ever got the chance. It felt like all Chewbacca had known for the last sixty years were his friend Han Solo and their ship the _Falcon_ , and endless fighting, adventuring, and smuggling. Yes, he had returned to his home world for a time, reconnected with his family, but it didn't last long. Briefly, the memories of what he'd seen of Kashyyyk's enslavement under the Empire's cruelty came to the forefront of his mind again. How his planet and his people had been torn apart by that bastard Palpatine and his mindless henchmen. Thankfully, that was in the past. And yes, his world was recovering, even though it might be a long process.

However, with the rise of the First Order, and the New Republic's recent collapse, he feared history may repeat itself. And this time he did not have his old friend to help him.

He and Rey set the _Falcon_ down in a clearing not too far from the outpost, but remote enough that it shouldn't be seen. Without a doubt, docking the _Falcon_ at the outpost itself would be a risk, considering Docking Bay 9 was once used by the First Order for recruiting purposes. Having to walk to and fro between the ship and the outpost would be a drag, but then again none of them really felt put out; stretching their legs with some walking was a welcome change from the stuffiness on board.

As a group, they hiked their way to Black Spire, so named for the tall spires of rock jutting up from the ground that naturally surrounded the outpost. Everyone was relieved as they reached the edge of the outpost, happy to finally be on solid ground again and ready to look around. It's not that they weren't used to living aboard a ship - most of them had been living more on the _Raddus_ , or some other ship in the Resistance fleet, in the past months than on a planet - but feeling solid earth beneath one's feet always brought a sense of ease and comfort. And yes, they'd all been able to keep their personal hygiene up to standard, but breathing fresh air, and having so much space one could swing their arms around, was an indulgence.

"Drinks?" Poe said, coming up behind her.

Rey smiled. "You're buying, right?"

"I said I would. Let's go."

The four friends all but bounced their way to the cantina, taking in their new sense of freedom and hope for the future.

"Supreme Leader," sounded one of his Captains' voices over his comm link to the bridge.

He had just finished slipping on his black gloves after freshening up. After not sleeping all night - whatever night could be aboard a ship perpetually living amongst the stars - it was at least nice to feel clean and put together.

"Yes, Captain," he replied.

"We have received a message from an old correspondence stationed on Batuu. She says she has information for the Supreme Leader as to the whereabouts of the Resistance."

Kylo Ren had been adjusting his cowl, but stopped at those last words. He knew Batuu. Snoke had used it for recruitment purposes once, but no longer felt it necessary to keep up a strong presence once the First Order was in full-swing. Of course, never one to sacrifice being thorough, he'd left a spy at the old docking bay just in case; the Resistance had also been known to frequent the outpost, a nice little hideaway at the edge of the Galaxy for when they needed to lay low and refuel. He knew his mother would have to land them soon to restock on supplies, but he hadn't been sure about where. The Resistance had many little holes scattered across the Galaxy it could slither its way into.

It seemed Snoke's foresight in the matter would pay off.

"She only wishes to speak with you, Supreme Leader. Shall I patch her through to your holo-display?"

"Yes, Captain. That will do."

He finished settling his cowl then turned and walked into the adjacent room where his personal holo-display was waiting, a red light alerting him to an urgent message. He pressed the button.

"So," he began, looking at the blue image of the holo-display. "What can you tell me, spy?"

Leia had given them their directives only minutes ago and Rey was, as expected, stationed to the _Falcon_. Her room was upgraded now that half their crew was moving onto the _TL-1200_ when it arrived. She was nearly to the entrance ramp when that tell-tale suction of sound made her freeze.

For a moment there was a look of horror on her face; she saw him, gazed around quickly, and then back again. He quirked an eyebrow. As ever, all he could see through their connection was her - the remaining space was just blackness and shadow. But her reaction was easy to read. The Resistance was no longer strictly on the _Falcon_ \- they had landed somewhere, and she was afraid he could see the planet. Too late, she also realized he now knew that because of her carelessness.

She swore under her breath.

Of course, he already knew they'd landed, and he already knew they were on Batuu, thanks to his informant. But she didn't need to know that.

"I suppose you won't tell me where you are?" He decided feigning at ignorance was the best course of action; if he indicated at all, in any way, that he knew where the Resistance was, she'd run off to her precious General and they'd be packed up and gone in the blink of an eye. He wanted them to have a nice long stay - long enough for his forces to be entirely assembled and prepared, and for his fleet to get through lightspeed.

"So, you can come over for a nice chat with the Resistance? Not a chance," she said sarcastically.

"No," he said, ultimately uninterested in Leia Organa's miscreant little band of do-gooders. They would need to be dealt with, yes, but they weren't his primary concern. "Just you."

Why did he always arrive at the most inconvenient of times? After some drinks at the cantina, and laughing and joking and talking - and forgetting about their problems, and living in the moment - her friends had separated. Poe went to _im_ patiently wait for the arrival of the X-Wings, and was probably annoying Leia with incessant questions about their specs, though she doubted Leia would be able to give him many answers on that front. Finn and Rose had gone off to help in the restocking effort for the _Falcon_ and their soon-to-be ship the _TL_. And it wasn't that Rey doubted their intentions; they tended to be very hands-on and helpful when it came to what the Resistance needed and asked of them. But she also suspected they'd gone together to get, ahem, a bit of time to each other without the prying eyes of everyone else in the organization. She'd noticed them on the _Falcon_ together - the sideways glances when they thought no one was watching, the way they'd suddenly jump apart as she came around the corner, and how they sometimes smiled shyly at each other from across the mess table. Something was blossoming between them, and she was happy for them, truly.

But it highlighted her own loneliness.

And when she was alone, and feeling incredibly lonely, were the moments he'd appear.

Sometimes she was relieved. Sometimes she was irritated. Often, she was both.

She tried to pretend he wasn't there, stomping up the _Falcon's_ ramp and to the cargo hold - him predictably haunting her steps. Silent, she started to collect up her things, but as ever the efficacy of his stare was difficult to ignore and besieged her mind with thoughts of their last encounter in the Force. His boldness. _Her_ boldness. Touching. Pressing their foreheads together. His instability that worried her. The darkness around his eyes that meant he hadn't slept. How tormented he had looked. How unhinged it had made her feel. What was right and what was wrong? She just didn't know anymore. Everything about him and about her and about the Force and its intentions was one unreadable, unknowable _something_ that felt so far beyond her depth. In Jedi terms, she wouldn't even be considered a Padawan, and yet everyone was hailing her as The Last Jedi.

There was so much she had left to learn. And the things she didn't know about the Galaxy, and about her abilities, were reflected in Kylo Ren's eyes every time they met. And he knew. He could read it on her that she was curious, and she could be seduced by his promise of knowledge if he whittled her down because she was so desperate to be better than she was, and to live up to the promise on everyone's lips when they whispered, across the Galaxy in secret and in hope, "Rey - The Last Jedi." She felt so responsible.

She felt ready to break.

"You're quiet," he observed calmly, but his eyes belied his inner intensity.

She sighed, her hands on top of the freighter box she'd been using as a nightstand and table. On it were the Jedi texts, which she'd been placing in a neat stack. Sighing again, with her arms stretched out across the box in a pose of exhaustion, Rey bowed her head. What could she say?

The ponderous sound of his footsteps, like nightfall as it casts itself heavily across the sky, approached her. "You're troubled," he said lowly, his brows just a bit furrowed.

She looked up at him, angry, as if he were the root of all her feelings of inadequacy and obligation. "Don't."

"Don't," he questioned, his gaze pensive.

She turned her back on him. "Don't read me. Don't look at me. Just-just go!" Not too long ago she'd been drinking to a toast made by Rose to happiness and the future and the Resistance, and she'd felt it, genuinely felt happy. And all her cares, and every burden she was carrying, had been left at the cantina door. Now, they were atop her shoulders like demons, pressing and pushing.

Far from going, he drew closer. His footsteps vibrated acutely.

"What's the matter," he whispered softly, an echo of the words she'd said to him, so full of concern.

He was insufferable. He never listened to her. Unsurprisingly, he was a selfish bastard and did what he wanted. She hated that about him. He was so intrusive. She thought back to their first real meeting, face-to-face, and how he'd delved into her mind for answers on Luke's whereabouts, but ended up reading her soul. Yes, she'd gotten her revenge, but it didn't feel like enough. He always knew more - he had so much more experience.

"Rey," he questioned into the air between them. "You're not alone." A careful hand came down on her shoulder, and without thinking she was grabbing it in her own, squeezing his fingers desperately. Why were they both friend and enemy? What were they supposed to do with this impossible situation?

Why was she unable to pull away from him?

Why was she turning and moving closer, wrapping her arms around him?

Why did it feel good?

He needed something - _anything_ \- Rey could give him to quiet her voice in his mind. Surely, if he could just taste her mouth then the incessant _wanting_ would stop making his entire being ache. She was looking up at him with those same eyes that had once been full of disgust in the forest, and again in their bond when she'd said fiercely, "You _are_ a monster."

 _Yes, I am_ , he heard himself reply in his memory. _Yes, I am_ , he repeated then, as his fingers tightened around her. Why was the urge to crush her so prevalent when he held her, when she was so close and he could touch her? Crush her under his will - dominate her until she succumbed. But that was the Dark Side; an obsessive desire that had been eating away at him since the moment he removed his mask for her in the interrogation room and she saw his face for the first time with interest; he'd noticed how her face had softened for a moment. He noticed how she'd wondered how the vicious Kylo Ren could be so vile, and yet not look like a monster at all.

"What are we going to do?"

 _We_ , she said. It gave him a thrill to hear her say such a small word. _Yes, we, just how I wanted it when you rejected me_. "About what," he urged.

"About...this? U-u-us," she stammered, lowering her gaze to his chest, shy. The last time he'd seen her look so pliable was when she'd been explaining her experience in the cave, a tear spilling down her face.

"What _should_ we do," he asked in return.

Her brow furrowed. "Stop answering my questions with questions. Is this a game to you?" She began to jerk free from his grasp.

"Not at all," he said, curling his fingers tighter. She would never escape him - he'd never allow it.

 _Not at all_ , echoed those deep, luxurious words, said with such intensity they moved up and down her body. She couldn't take it anymore; the constant wondering and wanting that tried to devour her at night as she lay awake in the darkness with nothing to protect her from wanton thoughts of his face - his lips, his eyes - or his body. They really hadn't known each other very long, but the Force had connected them, and the Force continued to connect them. And, she was beginning to realize, they were connecting each other. They were pulling the other towards them all the time in longing. What was going to become of this - Kylo Ren, the Jedi Killer, and Rey, the Last Jedi, being...friends? Being...more? Weren't they enemies?

"Please - " he began, in that same low tone from the _Supremacy_.

She stopped him with a kiss. Standing to her full height, she pulled him down to meet her mouth. She wanted him, she wanted him so much it didn't feel real. He was so compliant under her hands as her mouth played against his, their tongues meeting and searching.

When they came apart their lips were flushed, eyes were glazed, and they panted softly from exhilaration.

"Why does this feel - "

"Right," he finished.

Their mouths met again, something overwhelming them both. He held her flush against his body, she pulled him to meet her - they stood wrapped together so tightly it was like they could melt into one.

She reveled in the way his body against hers was firm, but his lips and his tongue were soft, and careful, and full of questions. What kind of questions could the great Supreme Leader Kylo Ren have about a girl from Jakku? Such an unlikely pair, and yet they really weren't all that different from one another.

"Hey Rey!" someone yelled for her in the distance, the echo bouncing off the trees. "Rey! Leia said you were in the _Falcon_ moving your stuff. She wants to talk to everyone. The delivery should be coming soon, and she wants everyone to be ready." The voice drew nearer and nearer as it yelled for her. It sounded like Finn.

Startled, scared, her hands let go of the back of his neck, of his hair, and she craned around to see if anyone was there. No, nobody was standing there, but they were coming. They were looking for her.

"What is it," he asked fervently.

"Someone is calling for me," her voice, her face, were completely stricken.

 _No_ , he growled mentally. _Not yet_. "Don't go," he said firmly, hands gripping her again with aggression - not affection.

"I have to," she hissed, craning around him to get a glimpse of the hallway.

"Hey Rey! Where are you?" The voice was closer, close enough she _knew_ it was Finn.

His dark eyes searched her face as his mouth worked from side to side. In frustration? Disappointment? With stiff fingers, he unwillingly released her.

She took one last look at his darkened lips, full of warmth and her kisses, and walked passed him.

"Finn," he heard her yell jovially. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you."


	5. Chapter Five

Star Wars: Division

Hey everyone! Yes, yes, more of me talking about how happy I am that this story is getting attention. I got three new reviews to look over, a favorite, and three new followers. Amazing! I'm really happy with all the responses so far.

Please feel free to continue to leave comments! Thanks for everything, followers. To all my readers: please enjoy.

Chapter Five

Stretching out before the _Finalizer_ was the blue-lined tunnel of hyperspace. The First Order had mobilized, and what Kylo Ren still had of the original Fleet was traveling together to reach Batuu, hopefully with enough time to catch the Resistance forces and their leader; he watched space through the bridge viewport, anxious to reach their destination. Chasing down the remaining Resistance forces he had had in his reach and cornered on Crait, but were spared because of his former Master, was already plagued by tedium enough; he wanted to end this.

 _Then where will you go_ , he questioned in his mind. There was only one person on Batuu he wanted alive - the rest could be returned to the Force.

He wanted a resolution, and not strictly because he didn't want to see the Resistance rise from their pile of ashes. Yes, whispers had been spreading amongst the Senators that had betrayed the New Republic while it still stood - the ones Snoke had had in his pocket - and their whispers spoke of the remaining Republic planets reaching out to the Resistance and joining forces. The majority of the Republic Fleet had been decimated when Starkiller Base burned the Hosnian System off the Galactic map, but that didn't mean it was completely gone. Fragments remained, and so did some very wealthy Senators with very wealthy governments and planets full of resources; it was certainly enough for them to band together, meet with Leia Organa, and then combine all their numbers, credits, and materials into one. It was more than enough for a rebirth, and he wanted to avoid that as much as possible. Still, they didn't worry him so much as they were too much of a distraction from his _real_ problems - trying to get a grip on his leadership role of the First Order, and trying to figure out what plot was simmering between his officers so he could avoid being assassinated as soon as he'd gotten to the throne. He hated not having his Knights close by for security, but he'd dispatched them in order to keep tabs on the newly acquired Senators, with their newly acquired loyalties; he didn't trust them. A person who could be bought once could easily be bought twice.

He knew Hux would try to win some of them over, obtain their backing and support, and Kylo Ren highly suspected, unfortunately, that he couldn't stop that from happening. After all, no leader could be everywhere, and subterfuge ran rampant amongst the power hungry and ambitious. The ancient Sith Order was proof enough of that. But at least if a Senator did feel treasonous, one of his stationed Knights would be able to inform him. Getting ahead of the curve would make all the difference.

Then, of course, there was the matter of the Jedi. Even as he rushed his army through hyperspace to launch a surprise attack on her _friends_ , he could feel her lingering presence around his mind. It wouldn't make him hesitate; this was war, and the Resistance needed to die. Killing her friends, in fact, was something he hoped for - was anxious for. Preferably in front of her. He remembered his own path to the Dark Side, how Snoke weaseled his way into his mind even as he studied with Skywalker in the Jedi temple, practiced his Jedi forms in combat, built his first lightsaber with the guidance of Jedi knowledge. Even then, surrounded by Jedi teachings, and fellow students, and a Jedi Master, Snoke was present in the back of his mind like a splinter, slicing his sly, slow way right down the middle of all those chaste, pragmatic Jedi lessons.

 _There is no emotion, there is Peace_ , Master Skywalker would pronounce.

 _Peace is a lie, there is only Passion_ , Snoke's voice would hiss.

He understood these two contradictory principles simultaneously; as he had trained in one, so, too, he had trained in the other, creating a very temperamental mixture of knowledge and an even more volatile relationship and connection to the Force. Often, he felt the Force's confusion surrounding him; it showed itself when it denied him possession of Anakin's blade on Starkiller, preferring the much more centered, Light-attuned energy of Rey. He knew it wasn't because she was calling it with more strength - the lightsaber chose her, or more accurately, the kyber inside it chose her. But on the _Supremacy_? When they'd both called it, it hadn't been able to choose. His desires, her desires - equal in the Light.

Now, if only he could get her desires to line up with his in the Dark.

It was his main focus in matters pertaining to her. In his excitement, he had tried to lure her over in a rush, underestimating the attachments she'd made within the Resistance and overestimating their own bond. He had completely overlooked the fact that, although she was untrained in the ways of the Jedi, her meeting and being with the Resistance had given them all the opportunity they needed in order to indoctrinate her to their point of view and, foolishly, she'd made a family of them thinking they were paragons for Good. It was just as he'd told her - a wounded animal searching for any handout she could find; she took to them so easily because of her weakness.

What she didn't know was that her emotional connections ran too deep; they were, in fact, very un-Jedi like. He'd been pondering how to explain that to her for the past couple days, but now with this opportunity to simply kill them all, extensive mind games may not be necessary. There would be a need for some, though. After all, his own path to the Dark Side had been a process, why had he expected hers to be anything less? Too anxious, too excited. He'd never forget the moment it had begun to take root in him.

 _"Sir, we were unable to acquire the droid on Jakku. It escaped capture aboard a stolen Corellian YT model freighter," said the nervously sweating Lieutenant Mitaka._

 _A Corellian YT model freighter meant -_ Han Solo _, he growled in his head. "The droid - stole a freighter," he said slowly, turning his head to look over his shoulder._

 _The Lieutenant swallowed and tried his damnedest to maintain composure. "Not exactly, Sir. It had help. We have no confirmation, but we believe FN-2187 may have helped in the escape - "_

 _His words were caught off in fear as Kylo Ren ignited his lightsaber and began hacking and slashing through his rage using the control board in front of him. Sparks flew. The steady red beam of his saber cutting through the machinery with abandon helped steady his mind._

 _He took a deep breath and tried to regain calm. "Anything else?"_

 _A bead of sweat rolled down the man's temple. "The two were accompanied by a girl."_

 _With an unnatural speed, he spun around, reached out his arm, and pulled the Lieutenant directly into the awaiting claw of his hand. "What. Girl," he ground out between his teeth; the mask's voice apparatus distorted the sound into something nearly inhuman._

There had been whispers growing in the Force. As Snoke had said - as Darkness rises, Light grows to meet it, and he'd felt the ripples in the Force that suggested change was coming. Of course, he had suspected something from his old Master, as Snoke had, until the appearance of the _girl_. Coincidences didn't happen in the Force; everything had its reason and purpose, a universal truth in both the Light and Dark.

And from that moment - the moment of his suspicions - he had been prowling through the shadows to claim her.

He was planning on doing just that when the death of her precious rag-tag family stirred the hatred and wrath he saw inside, coiled around her core like a snake ready to strike. It just needed some prompting.

He'd make her see. He'd make her understand.

Once the meeting was over, Rey returned to the _Falcon_ to finish moving her things into actual sleeping quarters. True, it wasn't a large space, but it could fit a proper bed and a desk and that was all she needed. On the desk sat the Jedi texts; she'd been reading sections, but it was starting to become very clear she would need to start from the beginning - no shortcuts. No cheating. But she hated her inadequacies.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, she sat down at the modest desk and opened up the first ancient book with trepidation. _There is no emotion_ , she read slowly. What did that mean?

"Wake up," someone was saying at her elbow. "Hey, Rey, wake up. There's some urgent news!"

Bleary-eyed, she slowly lifted her cheek off the page of the text she'd been studying; when had she fallen asleep?

Rose looked down at the exhausted expression on her friend's face and felt pity for her; every one knew Rey hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in nearly a week and a half. She could see the strain being 'The Last Jedi' was placing on her shoulders, but there wasn't much anyone could do about it. Being the last of an ancient religion and order that half the Galaxy had come to believe was simply stories to entertain children had an isolating effect on a person.

"Rey," she said softer. "Scouts have an urgent report. We need you in the briefing room."

"Right, right," she said, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "Yeah, right," she repeated from sleepy confusion.

It took Rey another moment to fully wake up, take in her surroundings, and then stand and follow Rose to the briefing room - which was a nice way of addressing the abandoned shack of a former Resistance crew that had been stationed at the outpost. As they trudged through the forests of Batuu, Rey was only just able to keep herself from sleepily tripping over a gnarled root or decaying log. She yawned silently, her palm covering her mouth. She knew they were almost near the outposts borders when she began to feel unease through the Force. It appeared the scouts didn't have good news.

Once they reached the flat, safe ground of the outpost, they hurried the rest of the way. Everyone was already waiting. As soon as Rey and Rose entered, Leia turned to the scout and nodded her head, prompting him to speak.

"General, we have confirmation First Order forces are being sent to land on Batuu's surface. Whether they're aware of our presence our not, scouts can't confirm."

"They know," Rey said immediately. Everyone at the table turned to look at her, and Leia gave her an appraising glance. She couldn't say how she knew, but as soon as he'd made the statement, the answer had come to her. She could… Feel it.

"If Rey says they know, then they know. We'll need to get off-world immediately. Our forces aren't strong enough to take on a fight, here. We'll have to complete the transfer of X-Wings another time."

"No," said Poe as he gripped the edge of the table. "We need those fighters. We need to rebuild our air forces, or else we'll never have any chance to get going again." Of course, for Poe, not having an X-Wing to fly felt similar to not having a home. As an ace pilot, it was natural he felt most comfortable when he was in a cockpit, in the middle of a dog fight, somersaulting to avoid blaster fire and being the underdog. It must've been killing him to have to settle for those few times he'd been able to fly the Falcon - when Chewie and Rey weren't already at the helm.

Leia appraised him with the same knowing look she'd just cast on Rey. "I understand you want to get airborne, Poe, but we have to take what we can get. We have another ship, we have the new recruits. While we have the chance, we need to leave and set up another rendezvous point."

"We can stall 'em," Poe urged. "I know we can. Those X-Wings are just outside, General, they're practically in our hands! All we have to do is keep the Order distracted long enough for the transaction to complete, and for our pilots to get airborne. After that, full on evacuation."

Leia sighed - as stubborn as ever, and still as much of a risk-taker as he had been during the D'Qar disaster, but at least this time he was making sense. It would be a huge time kill to have to circumvent the usual hyperspace routes again, and find another suitable place to make the deal. It may only be ten fighters, but that was ten fighters more than they had, and having them would really begin the process of rebuilding their army. Poe's eyes were on her like the twin suns of Tatooine, burning and urging and desperate. The thing about being the plucky underdog was sometimes - _most_ of the time - you had to take risks. "All right," she said finally, nodding her head. "All right. Assemble a small team to take with you into the forests. Don't engage the enemy - use the trees to your advantage. Lots of hit-and-run fire, you hear me?"

Poe heard her loud and clear. "Absolutely, General. Rey, Finn, Rose? What d'you say we go play with our First Order friends?" He looked at each in turn with his debonair smirk.

"Count me in," said Rose with determination.

"Me two," said Finn.

"Me three," said Rey without hesitation.

Leia smiled. "Good. I'll send some of the new recruits your way. And don't forget a blaster," she winked at them all and then turned to meet with their sympathizer to oversee the transfer of the fighters. C-3PO followed behind her, muttering his usual pragmatic one-liners about how the odds were stacked in the First Order's favor, and their forces wouldn't survive.

Next to the four of them, BB-8 buzzed and whirred in excitement.

"Sorry, buddy, you gotta' stay here," said Poe as he knelt down to be eye-level with his loyal little droid.

BB-8 whirred sadly.

"I know you've been itching for a fight, but we're fighting the First Order on some rough terrain and we have to stay hidden. Probably we'll hide up in the trees. It won't be a good place for you. Besides," Poe said standing, hands on his hips, "you'll need to stay here and make sure these pilots are up to snuff."

That did sound promising - the droid beeped proudly and loudly.

"Also, look after the General." The droid gave affirmation and then rolled off after the retreating backs of Leia and C-3PO.

"Rey," Rose said, turning to her. "We're gonna' need some help on this one. What can you do?"

Poe and Finn looked at her expectantly, and under the gazes of the three of them the enormity of her position began to press upon her. The Last Jedi - what a moniker she had inherited from a mentor that had barely helped her. _Thanks, Master Skywalker_ , she thought sarcastically. This was her time; she had to prove herself, and not just to Leia, not just to her assembled friends, not just to the remaining Resistance forces that were holding on to the smallest fraction of hope left in the growing chaos of the Galaxy. She needed to do this to prove to herself she was the Jedi they believed she was. She had to be their protector, and their champion.

"Let me see what I can find in the Force," she said.

Trusting her, they all nodded and began suiting up with blaster ammo and fire, while Rey took a deep breath, grounded herself, and closed her eyes.

There was much she didn't understand contained within the ancient Jedi texts, but one of the easier concepts was that a Force-user would be able to wield the Force much quicker, and more efficiently, by extending out one's hand and using it to direct their will. In the days of the Old Republic, great wars between the Jedi and Sith were fought only in the mind using battle Masters who spread morale throughout entire battalions of their soldiers, or cast doubts and illusions upon the enemy. Using only one's mind, many things could be achieved through the Force, but it exhausted the wielder and for some, like Luke Skywalker, it took their remaining connection to the physical world. Less strenuous, and more focused, a Force wielder could extend their arm and hand to channel their mind's will and the Force, taking the weight off their mind, and honing it to a very sharp point. It was such whenever a Sith used the Force choke or whenever a Jedi casually waved their fingers to influence another's decisions. Limbs became an extension of the Force, just like a lightsaber. She used this principle in that moment to direct her focus upon Kylo Ren's intentions and movements. With closed eyes, and a furrowed brow, she felt herself reaching out for the first time in the Force since Master Skywalker's lessons on Ahch'To, sifting through it like the sands of Jakku she'd searched through her entire life. The First Order forces had just landed. She felt many people - many minds. Stormtroopers, assembling themselves in precise military formation. Stronger minds - lieutenants, captains, other soldiers who were of leader-class. And then, descending from his TIE Silencer, the staggeringly heavy mind of Kylo Ren. It pressed upon her like a rock, solid and rigid with jagged edges that grated along the base of her neck. "He's here," she muttered in her concentration. "I can see his mind."

"Good, Rey. Good," Poe said with a quick encouraging squeeze of her shoulder. "Can you see anything? Plans, strategy?"

Her eyes pressed tightly together as she focused. "The mountains...the trees, he's thinking about the landscape," she said lamely. "I can't read exactly what - " She paused and the look of concentration on her face deepened. Behind her closed eyelids, Poe and Finn and Rose watched with bated breath as her eyes roved from side to side. "A-a-a-a- gas attack!" she said suddenly with prideful exhilaration. She'd done it! "He wants to initiate a gas attack to smoke us out."

Poe smirked and wiped a hand across his mouth in excitement. "Of course, he'd know we'd use guerilla warfare. Too bad he didn't bank on our ace," and he gave Rey a small punch on the arm and flashed a smile. "This is good. As long as we can avoid breathing in the gas, we should be able to distract them for a while, and then retreat without a problem when we need to. The gas will actually help cover our movements." He turned to Rose and Finn. "Quickly, tell everyone and get some masks. Only move in small groups of three or four."

"Got it. What about you two," Rose said, looking between Rey and Poe.

"I think the Jedi and I will run up ahead and give everyone time to prepare." He looked sideways at Rey and grinned.

"Be careful," Finn said, eyes on Rey.

"I will," she gave him a quick smile. "Don't worry about me. Just get everyone else ready and catch up."

Rose had already turned from them to hand out blasters to the new recruits, and distribute masks, clothes, rags - anything they could cover their nose and mouth with to stave off the gas.

Poe pulled the blaster from his hip and gave it a roguish twirl around his finger. "Get going. We got this," he said to Finn.

Finn rolled his eyes, but smiled, and handed them each a gas mask, which they accepted and slipped over their heads.

They parted ways. Poe handed Rey his spare blaster and sighed. "Really wish you still had a working lightsaber. Ren's got a knack for catching blaster fire."

Rey looked at him with a sigh and shrugged, "So do I. I'm working on repairing it as fast as I can."

"I know, Rey," Poe said, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I told you not to stress too much. We all know you're under a lot of pressure. But you're not alone." His eyes had softened; they were no longer blazing with that fighter spirit that was so easily recognizable in his animated face. It was a gentle expression. A friendly one.

She smiled. "Thanks." She clipped the blaster to her hip and then gestured forward. "Let's hurry."

The fighter was back. "Yes ma'am," and the two of them ran forward, towards the First Order.

The problem was, even as she ran to fight - and kill - the First Order in protection of the Resistance, with every intention of helping their cause, Poe's words had mirrored someone else's, and it was creating a devilishly hopeless loop in her head. _You're not alone_ , echoed Kylo Ren's deep voice, as the glow of the fire played across her tear-stained face. His dark eyes stared at her from the murky depths of her own mind.

 _You're not alone_.

Hux eyed him suspiciously, hands clasped rigidly behind his back. "Wouldn't bombarding the planet be the quickest, most efficient method of eliminating them?"

His back was to him. It was the only reason he dared question the Supreme Leader's command.

The muscles in Kylo Ren's shoulders rippled with a flex of tension; Hux's constant commentary and questioning clearly nagged at his temper. But it didn't seem like enough, anymore. _I need to unbalance him_ , Hux thought. _Being Supreme Leader has steadied him far too much._

"Don't forget, General, that Black Spire has played host to the First Order, as well. We don't only have spies down there, but dormant access to trade routes that go largely unperturbed. Taking control of these trade routes, as well as the common ones between the Mid and Outer Rims, will give us a monopoly." Kylo Ren's head turned a bit, to regard Hux over his shoulder. "We can't do that if we recklessly bomb the planet."

Hux sneered as soon as his rival faced forward again. When had the temperamental apprentice, prone to childish tantrums filled with destruction, become so cool and calculated? It was like he'd become a whole new person. And it was certainly making it difficult to form a plan of attack for removing him from the throne.

"Of course, Supreme Leader." That was all he could manage to say after being mentally out-classed in front of all the assembled officers and grunts on the bridge.

"Begin unit deployment to the surface and ready my private ship."

"Immediately, Supreme Leader," said the communications captain just to his left. She relayed the message to the hangar team.

He hadn't been to Batuu - it had never been necessary for Snoke to send him, as a mere outpost sitting at the edge of the Mid-Rim that was largely bypassed by ships since the invention of hyperspace technology now in common usage. But he knew the landscape. The mountains and thick forests were the perfect forms of cover for a rogue band trying to hide and stay hidden. If his forces attacked they would take to using the trees to their advantage and only engage in small skirmishes they could win. Other tactics like traps, decoys, and sniper fire could also be in their plan of attack. They'd never beat the First Order forces with numbers and brute strength, so dipping in and out of quick, small-numbered fights through wits and strategy was their only hope of staying alive. He knew that. That's why he'd already prepared counter measures to quickly nullify their predictable guerilla-inspired battle plan. All villains knew the best way to make critters flee in fear - and run directly to their own slaughter - was to smoke them out.

She would be there amongst the rebel forces. She followed his mother around like the same attention-starved child she'd been with Han Solo; it irritated him. More than that, the thought she had somehow become the daughter Leia Organa had never had was maddening. Why was she so impudent?

The First Order landed on Batuu's surface and began unloading.

He sensed her presence amongst the trees, burning brighter than any other life force on the entire planet. It was a beacon - if he wanted to follow it and find her, he could. But he wanted to find her friends, and he wanted to see them dead. Only when they were no longer around for her to cling to could she finally release herself from the need for their affections.

The stormtroopers stood at attention as he descended the ramp of his ship. They sounded a military cry as he walked up the center column, between the four divisions - two on each side. Kylo Ren held up two fingers, then flicked them forward. Behind him, a lieutenant gave the call - "Launch the attack. Units! Move out!"

In every perfectly squared division, the back line of soldiers carried canister guns, all loaded with gas pellets. As the soldiers advanced, the cannisters began launching into the trees, fizzing through the air as thick, white smoke began to release from the top. The stormtroopers' helmets already protected them from the gas. Kylo Ren's resurrected black helmet would do the same for him. It felt good to be a creature in a mask again.

The forces had landed in an area Kylo Ren sensed the Resistance was concentrated; Rey had been there, and a few others. He suspected they'd fall victim to the gas soon.

"Canvas slowly," came the half organic, half robotic cadence of his voice from within the mask. "When you find their bodies, shoot to kill."

The forest was calm. Dark green leaves blanketed the tree limbs, leaving little room for the sun to filter down beyond the canopy. They moved slowly, fanned out in a long line across a swath of the forest, blasters and eyes pointed down on the ground searching and scanning for knocked out Resistance scum. Soon, they should find something - the first body of their final crusade.

Kylo Ren halted. At the back of his mind, a fiery presence brushed past his thoughts a little too close to stay veiled. _Rey_. He had been so focused and so sure that he'd forgotten to layer his mental shields and protect against invasion. He hadn't expected her to attempt it, but he still should've been prepared for it. Had she seen? She must have. They should've begun to discover fallen bodies, but had yet to come across one. Then he felt a disturbance and with impeccable reflexes turned to his left and stopped the blue blaster bullet in its tracks.

Poe Dameron's face emerged - mask-clad - from behind a nearby tree. Sensing her, Kylo Ren swung right and also stopped her blaster fire in midair. It was almost enough to make him laugh, a Jedi so done in she had to use a blaster pistol instead of a lightsaber. Sad, really. Though, Rey's face was set with the same determination she always wore when they met face-to-face; he could tell by the look in her eyes. Her tenacious nature was one of her best qualities.

They locked eyes even through his mask, and hers. In the briefest moment it passed between them that he knew she'd invaded his mind, and she knew he knew. So, that's how it had to be, did it?

Just hours ago they'd been in each others' arms. Now, they were enemies.

"I want the Jedi," he hollered at the top of his lungs, the unnatural sound of his voice distorted not only because of the rage in his scream, but also by the mechanical voice relay that helped warp the sound into something far beyond the primal call of any animal mother nature had created. With its usual lightening like crackle, his lightsaber ignited, a red hot beam like his fury.

"Fire!"

Heavy blaster fire began, widely missing their targets, who were already on the move. The First Order forces gave chase. Kylo Ren advanced on Rey who, reminiscent of their first encounter in the forests of Takodana, fired several shots at him while retreating backwards. Even though some of the stormtroopers had broken off of Poe and the other Resistance fighters who were emerging from behind trees the further they advanced into the forest to chase after Rey, he needn't worry about them hitting her. He felt no danger in the Force.

"You've chased after me several times, now," she yelled with a taunt, then ducked to avoid blaster fire that hit the tree trunk to her left and burned a hole through it.

Inside his helmet, his lip curled - unseen. He knew what she meant: Takodana and Starkiller Base. "Yes, the first time I was successful, and the second I was not." It was a repeat of their first dance, him advancing as she pulled away. He paused a moment. "That means I'm due a victory."

Her chest heaved from the adrenaline that scorched her blood. "We'll see."

With flourish, he swung his blade around and let it slice the air, his wrist rolling effortlessly. She didn't seem at all impressed by his display. Aiming over his shoulder, she fired on the stormtroopers running after their Supreme Leader's back, who occasionally paused to return fire on her. They only hit trees trunks; the forest was too thick, and Rey was beginning to feel the direction blaster fire was moving in, making it easier to dodge and avoid.

Frustration built in Kylo Ren as he chased after her, not nearly as nimble as someone who'd spent their entire life climbing and jumping and bending their way through the enormous ruins of war ships. With so much to hide behind and move around, and with the ground uneven, Rey was constantly able to stay three steps ahead, and he had no way of reaching her at the pace they were going. He searched the landscape for an answer, reaching out in the Force to read the lay of the land that was spread out before them. While he focused, he refrained from deflecting all her blaster fire, in order to keep the majority of his concentration on his mental task. He deflected only those shots that were too close for comfort. Consequently, several shots made it past him - two succeeded in finding targets. The stormtroopers collapsed with muffled cries of pain.

Hearing their cries of pain brought her both a sense of elation, and a sense of dread. She felt their lives snuffed out through the Force. It was dizzying.

Up ahead, Kylo Ren sensed the weakened trunk of a tall tree. He could trap her.

She continued to backpedal most of her way through the forest, firing with less precision as she blocked out the sensations of death that kept coming to her as others died further to her right - stormtroopers, mostly. She'd never been so open to the Force before. It was overwhelming and disorientating.

Right as she drew near, just twenty feet away from the tree, Kylo Ren reached out with the Force and yanked it down in triumph. The tree caved under the pressure of his pull, and the trunk snapped near the base, causing it to fall right in her way - with a bit of his guidance, of course. She looked up at the tree, startled, and jumped back right as the tall, heavy tree slammed down to the ground, disrupting the entire area around it. The forest was filled with the propagating sound waves of countless tree branches snapping and breaking and cracking.

Frozen in placed in shock, she gazed at the tree as it lay across the path. Behind her, the weight of Kylo Ren's presence assailed her own, their carved out space within the Force combating one another.

What would she do now? Off in the distance, she heard the cries of the Resistance and the First Order. Blaster fire echoed deafeningly. Bodies fell. No one would be able to save her.

He felt her intent before her hand came up to call his lightsaber; he supposed she'd figured she had summoned it once, so why not try again? But he had already put up a Force shield to block her. Kylo Ren's left hand, clad in its usual black leather, raised up and the index finger moved side-to-side as he scolded her in the same way an indulgent parent scolds their pampered child. Her call couldn't even make his lightsaber vibrate.

In a flash, he called _her_ weapon, and the blaster whipped out of her hand and flew to his open palm. _Now_ there was fear in her eyes. Weaponless, and alone, her only plan of escape would be to run in the direction of her friends and hope for the best. But she wasn't a runner by nature, so the choice felt cowardly even given her circumstances. She was the brave sort. Another one of her best qualities.

Without preamble, he tossed the silly weapon to the side. "Go to the others," he said to the remaining stormtroopers behind him. "I can take care of things from here."

"Sir," the three men said in unison, then trudged off through the rough terrain to their brothers and sisters in arms.

"It's not too late," he said when they were out of earshot.

She set her chin. Defiant. As always.

"You're right, Ben," she said with that same blaze of determination and hope. "It's not too late. Come with me. _Join me_ ," she urged him. "Put an end to all this!"

His hand balled into a fist. "No, that's not how this is supposed to go. I know what I saw."

"And I know what _I_ saw," she shot back. "You don't have to do this and you know it." She paused. Her eyes softened, and the tension in her shoulders released. She took a step towards him, the memory of their kiss a flame in her mind. "You offered to be my teacher, not too long ago." Her mouth quirked briefly into a hesitant smile. "Doesn't the offer still stand?"

Completely disarmed by her sudden gentle words, and the tenderness of her eyes, he took a step back. He had never before met someone who could make him feel so constantly off-guard.

"But Rey, my Jedi training - " He cut his words, and looked to the sky.

She quickly spun around and cried, "No!"

They both felt it. Double-barrelled laser fire from an X-Wing peppered the ground, lining up with Kylo Ren's location, and Rey stood by, in distress, as the green laser bullets just missed him. When the second X-Wing made a pass at the leader of the First Order, he was prepared, lightsaber in hand. Crackling and electric, his distorted lightsaber blade deflected shot after shot as enemy fire rained upon him. The gentleness in his face was gone, replaced by rage. It made her stomach lurch.

"Ben, please, we need - ! " But he was already turning away, taking cover from the continued fighter fire.

She had no choice but to head towards the _Falcon's_ location. But she had felt so close. So damn close. Only to have the chance and moment ruined. _Dammit_ , she swore angrily in her head.

He glanced back only once, and when he did she was already climbing over the tree trunk.

Just like on the _Supremacy_ , they split apart and went their separate ways.


	6. Chapter Six

Star Wars: Division

Hey everyone. I just wanted to talk a bit about the story and how I'm structuring everything. There hasn't been a lot of romance, which I think is one of the highlights of a story like this - fans really want that Reylo. Haha. (I don't blame you.) But I'm writing the story from the perspective of a book; if Disney came to me and said, "Write us a book for the sequel!" this is kind of how I would have it go. Which is why - even though it's a Reylo story - it also has a lot of Star Wars history and backstory going on. I'm trying to keep it very true and authentic to the Star Wars universe so that the experience is that much more immersive and real for the fans. If that makes sense. *strokes beard* Anyway, I hope it hasn't been boring for you guys. Big thank you to everyone who has stuck with the story!

On a similar note, the story has nine (!) new followers! I appreciate it, everyone.

grlvct, NE8675309, tribolt2121, WigletsMom, Flach, Narifia-TheFallingStar, Shiranai Atsune, xoulblade, and tonipanda04 - who just joined today.

And the story is on the favorite(s) list of these lovely people: littleluny, ClumsyAme, Casmilla, uhhhhhhhhhhh, and jezie.

Really, truly - the biggest thank you to all the followers and comment-ers and favorite-rs. It's such a great feeling to open my e-mail and see an alert from FanFiction about something new in regards to the story. I can't express myself enough.

Thoughts, feelings, questions, concerns - always welcome.

Chapter 6

Aboard the _Falcon_ , the air was electric. The crews of both ships were floating along somewhere on cloud nine as they savored their small victory against the First Order. Rey wasn't exactly sure how things were going on the _TL_ , but if it was anything like the happenings of the _Falcon_ , then a lot of drink was being passed around and a lot of whooping and cheering and toasting were being bounced off the walls in delight. She was happy for them, and the Resistance, and for herself, having achieved her first real test on the battlefield with her abilities. But every time she heard the sonorous call of Poe's X-Wing soaring overhead, blasting away at Kylo Ren - very nearly hitting - it made all the joy in her die. She had been so close - Poe had horrible timing! The one small grace of the situation was being unable to see the look of betrayal sliced across his face in rage because of his mask.

 _No, but this isn't right_ , Rey anguished in her head as she tightened her fingers around her drink and listened to her compatriots happily chit-chat their drunken way through an entire shelf full of alcohol thanks to some surplus at the Batuu cantina. She'd joined in and had a couple cups, but it was hard to keep up the facade she was ecstatic when her thoughts would wander places it shouldn't wander, and she'd only end up feeling dejected. It wasn't right, what she was doing, and yet she couldn't stop. It wasn't just the Force connecting them - they were connecting each other, or else they were letting the connection happen. Certainly, if they wanted, they could close the link, simple as that. Luke had cut himself off from the Force - surely they could do something similar, if they really wanted to. But they didn't want to, and she didn't know what to do with that.

Chewie was flying alone; she'd been banned from the cockpit in order to enjoy the festivities and get some much needed stress relief. Leia's orders. It had worked for the first couple hours - she really had enjoyed herself. But as soon as her buzz started to wear off the villain of reality came creeping into her thoughts and all of the fun had been lost. And she couldn't reclaim it. Not even after downing half of the drink she had in her hand. In fact, it seemed to make things worse.

Even with a small number of crew - the ten pilots assigned X-Wings were currently in them, flying alongside the transports, getting a thrill all their own - everyone else was having too much fun to notice their resigned, solemn Jedi hero - everyone had really taken to calling her Jedi and hero after Poe and Finn and Rose raved to _anyone_ who'd listen about how she'd used her 'magical' Force abilities to beat Kylo Ren - who didn't feel like much of a hero. And often, on a much more worrying note, didn't feel like much of a Jedi. It wasn't just her sporadic penchant for darkness that would come rising up inside her like an animal that needed to feed; it was her continued lack of knowledge and belief in her own abilities. She _did_ want a teacher. She needed one. And there was only one person in the entire Galaxy that could do the job.

She needed to let it go. She would have to teach herself, much like Luke had done after both Obi-Wan and Yoda had moved on in the Force. He had had some training with Yoda, yes, but surely not the kind that had given him the title of Master. For that, he had to study all on his own and navigate the ways of the Jedi Order through trial and error; she would do the same. Yes, she would do the same - just like her Master. _Master Skywalker_ , she thought sadly. Why couldn't he have stayed just a bit longer? But of course, if he hadn't helped on Crait, then the Resistance would've been destroyed, including his own sister. Of course he'd sacrifice himself. Of course he would be the hero, one last time, while the chance was there. To do some good in his remaining hour.

But now she was so utterly alone. All the time.

She'd been alone her entire life.

The only times she didn't feel alone, anymore, were when he -

"Rey, come on," said Finn, bouncing over with his big, bright smile. "We're going to play sabacc, and Leia wants you as a partner. Come on," he said, hooking his arm through hers and giving her a yank from her seat.

A small smile came to her face, rescued from her dreary thoughts. "All right, all right, stop pulling me," she said with a laugh, and the two joined the remaining crew members circled around the table, the General already shuffling the deck with the eye of an experienced player about to fleece the room.

" _What_. _Happened_ ," hissed the red-head through grit teeth. The purpling effect occurring on Hux's face as he watched Kylo Ren's back did not complement his ginger hair at all. A vein in his neck bulged so badly it looked about ready to burst.

"It was the Jedi."

"Skywalker? But I thought - "

"The girl," he interrupted.

It's all Hux can do but laugh. "The _girl_? The untrained one? How is it this girl is able to continue to foil you, Ren? The First Order is becoming compromised because - "

Kylo Ren says nothing; words are unnecessary when his hand can do all the talking for him. Watching Hux's already colored face turn even more purple, with sickly yellowed blotches, provides a certain level of satisfaction - it's true. But it's the spittle that flies from his mouth as he gasps and struggles that gives Kylo Ren the real jolt of pleasure. The General's legs kick back and forth. He releases the cur, who falls limply to the ground, hacking and sputtering.

"I told you," Kylo Ren seethes, his left eye narrowing ever so slightly, like a half twitch, inside the confines of his helmet, "that finding the remnants of their group was key," he slams his hand down on top on the table for emphasis, "in finishing this war. Did you think it's because of the ex-stormtrooper or a _Senator_?" His voice slowly rose in volume the longer he went on, as the anger came up to the surface. "The Jedi found Skywalker. She's no longer entirely untrained. And the longer it takes you, _General_ ," he forced through his clenched teeth, "to find her location, the more adept she'll become!"

Hux was rubbing his throat, trying very hard not to completely collapse into fits of coughing and hacking, in order to save himself some face and dignity amongst the lower ranking officials present, but the effort kept his face a very livid red. "I told you, Supreme Leader," he said around painful swallows, "that finding such a small group across the expanse of the Galaxy was difficult. I assure you, the search parties I dispatched worked tirelessly in their efforts."

He would've relished in that moment to remind his old nemesis that the reason the girl had been able to reach Skywalker was because of Kylo Ren's own weaknesses. Oh, the enjoyment it would've given him to smirk, entirely smug, and watch his face tremble in silent agony at his own failure. But the way Kylo Ren stood with anger and power wrapped around him like a mantle, and the furious stare he bore upon his new subordinate - alight - knowing full well it was his own failure that had kept them from eliminating the Jedi, from even keeping her from Skywalker, - " _Pull the division out. We have what we need_ " - Hux thought better of antagonizing him. It didn't mean he was submitting completely, but there was a time and place for insubordination. During his mutiny.

For Kylo Ren, this was it - the perfect moment in their adversarial relationship to begin sowing suspicions towards Hux's motives; he already knew Hux had officers loyal to him, more than they were to their newly minted Supreme Leader, but if he cast doubts upon good ole' Armitage Hux's dedication to the First Order and its Supreme Leader by suggesting he had hidden sympathies for the Resistance, those loyal may turn their backs on him. He'd be a traitor, and traitors are given capital punishment. To be associated with a known traitor was career suicide, not to mention they feared Kylo Ren killing them strictly out of guilt by association. Yes, he would begin the process of winning Hux's friends over to his side of the playing field.

"Perhaps," he said lowly, calmly, as he walked the catwalk that split the bridge down the middle. He clasped his hands behind his back ponderously, and gazed out at the twinkling black canvas that was outer space. "Perhaps you feel sorry for them." Within the confines of his helmet, the oddly calm, half-robotic voice was deep and menacing in a very unsettling way. The other officers on the bridge exchanged quick glances; this wasn't the sort of Kylo Ren they were accustomed to. He had always been menacing, yes, but before he was wild and violent and all one need do was stay out of his way until the rage burned itself out. Now? He seemed cold and vicious. Distant, like a maniacal tyrant of immeasurable mystery. No one knew just what to make of this new Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order.

"Maybe you're dragging your feet, General," he continued without moving. "Maybe you want to buy them some time." He didn't make any accusations, but he certainly implied them. Honestly, he would've rather just killed him than play games, but if he did it would only give those supporting Hux more reason to hate him and want him dead. If, instead, he painted Hux as a traitor with legitimate claims and then formally executed him, his supporters may feel Armitage got his comeuppance and there would be no need to seek revenge. If he was going to lead the Galaxy through all the changes he envisioned for it, he would need people to stop plotting against him, especially the officers on his own ship.

Of course, this kind of talk unnerved Hux, who had indeed been trying to stab the new Supreme Leader in the back through dastardly alliances forged in the shadows Kylo Ren thought safe. Apparently, he didn't think those shadows were safe, after all - he'd gone snooping. And now, with everyone's wary eyes darting to get a look at him under pressure, and then darting away when he caught them looking, he was beginning to see the situation for the dangerous one it was. It's not that he'd thought assassinating Kylo Ren, or usurping his position, would be easy - but he certainly didn't think it would be difficult. After all, he was just some fool.

But, standing in the spotlight of accusations for treason, Armitage Hux was starting to realize he was not as much a fool as he'd thought.

He ignored the two small beads of sweat collected on his right temple, and regained a bit of the composure in his posture. "I assure you, Supreme Leader, that I hold no sympathy for the rebels. It was I who had the honor of launching the attack that blasted the Hosnian System from the skies. The Resistance is vile and cunning, we all know that. They're able to hide like cowards," he added with a sneer.

"If that's truly how you feel, General," said the still disturbingly calm voice of their leader, "then bring me some results."

Did he dare breach this subject again? He had to, or else everyone assembled on the bridge was going to think he was an unprepared dolt. He needed to gain back some ground, perhaps even shift blame back to Ren, so at least the damage would be minimized. "I brought it to your attention, _Supreme Leader_ ," Hux said with a bit too much irony, "that we'd have a much easier time finding the Resistance scum if we had the Knights of Ren at our disposal. Surely, if we'd had them today on the battlefield, things would not have ended like this," he gestured widely with his hand before him.

Kylo Ren turned and advanced towards his General, all six feet, two inches of him - and then some. "And I told you, Hux," he said with the kind of danger in tone even an idiot could pick up on, "that the Knights are none of your concern." He paused with a tilt of his head. "Why are you so keen to remove them from their posts, General?" He took another long, ponderous pause that made Hux swallow. "You don't like that it means your underlings can't have open negotiations?" It was there, between the lies, the knowledge of imminent betrayal that implied Kylo Ren was well informed in matters of Hux's political affairs. It wasn't true, of course, but Hux didn't need to know that. All he needed to believe was Kylo Ren was on to his games - completely.

Hux swallowed again, his throat still hurting from being choked so violently, and pulled at the neck of his tightly buttoned collar. With a deep breath, he tried to re-acquire some caricature of composure. "Not at all, Supreme Leader," he said conservatively, stampening down his emotions. "I'm merely suggesting their skill and prowess on the battlefield would be an immense help in our efforts."

"Yes, General, I suppose they would. But they have their own jobs to do. I suggest, for your sake and the sake of the First Order, that you stop worrying about theirs and focus on yours."

How badly he wanted to see his nemesis cut down - how badly he wanted to fire back with his own verbal jabs. But he had lost this encounter, there was no question. It was time to acquiesce the round or risk Kylo Ren's wrath. "Yes, Supreme Leader," he said deferentially.

With his hands behind his back, he looked to a nearby lieutenant. "Keep me apprised of the situation."

"Supreme Leader," the lieutenant said with a nod.

With that, their leader took his exit.

Everyone on the bridge was relieved to see him go.

Back in his private quarters, he let his mind wander, as it was wont to do when he was alone and freed from the role he'd been so determined to take. With a hiss of release, the front mechanism of his helmet lifted and he slipped it off his head. His helmet was useful for dealing with his underlings - it terrified them. But he liked to keep his face open when the chance of seeing her came about. He would be especially interested in seeing her now, after Batuu.

It had all been a distraction, he realized. The Resistance hadn't intended to fight or do damage, just keep the First Order delayed enough to secure their fighters and then escape. She had baited him - she wanted him to follow her. It had not been a slip up on her part when she touched his mind; she let herself be discovered. She had wanted him to feel it. She had wanted his attention. She knew that if she could lure him away from the main group of rebel fighters, minimal damage to their numbers would be done because trying to catch them with blaster fire through all the thick tree cover was highly unlikely. The gas was how he, Kylo Ren, had thought to counteract that fact, but she must've read his mind before, too. Before they'd even begun their attack. So, the first time she did it without his knowing to gain intel, and the second time she did it to pull his attention. She had manipulated him.

Had she meant anything she'd said? Or was bringing up his offer to teach her simply a ploy?

He could hear his old Master reproaching his weak behavior. _"You were unbalanced, bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber! You failed!" "Alas, you're no Vader. You're just a child… in a mask."_

He snarled.

Without hesitation, he stomped his way to the brig, ignoring every petty officer and droid who stopped to salute him along the way. He had a singular purpose in mind. In the _Finalizer's_ cells was one lone prisoner - a scummy smuggler who had passed the First Order bad information which had led to the debacle on the mining planet. A reconnaissance unit had gotten hold of him hours ago, when Kylo Ren was busy getting the army ready for Batuu. Now, the smuggler would get his dues.

Flouting his own protocols for formal execution, he entered the cell with the inmate and ignited his saber. The electric shock from his unbalanced blade reflected off the dark color of his eyes, making them glisten with a disturbing red glow. To the prisoner, who was suddenly staring down the tall, black figure of the First Order and reigning Dark Side wielder, he looked like a man possessed with fire striking hard as lightning in the backs of his eyes.

The figure approached, his footsteps impossibly heavy - how could they be so heavy? Sweating, frightened out of his mind, the prisoner held up his hands pathetically and stood, ready to fall to his knees to beg. "Please -" he began, his knees and bottom lip both shaking alike.

But Kylo Ren had no head for apologies - no room for mercy. With relish, he cleaved downward in a typical Djem So overhanded strike, and felt the give of bone and flesh as the man's skull split open from the will of his lightsaber. With such magnificent ease of motion, he pulled down until the man was completely halved - the left and right permanently separated. There was very little blood. The cauterizing effect of a lightsaber blade meant the two halves were sealed shut, keeping all the tissue and blood and soft, pliable organs all contained within. As if all the halves were now were sacks. Both pieces began to wobble, each one of the man's eyes locked in a different direction, staring perhaps with one eye on Life, and the other on Death, and then they toppled over, hitting the floor with quiet thuds.

He took a deep breath. A long, deep breath through the nose. It was so satisfying, but so painful. Like the dead man before him, Kylo Ren was a man perpetually split in two.

"Bye, Finn. Bye, Rose" she said in a sing-song voice as she shut the door. Finn and Rose both waved enthusiastically before hooking arms, leaning against each other, and went off to where and to do what, Rey didn't know. But she was sure it'd be fun.

With a laugh still on her lips, she sat down on her bed and took off her boots, her arm guards and wraps, her socks - she was ready for bed. Alcohol had that effect most of the time, that wonderful talent of taking away stress and easing muscles and releasing inhibitions until eventually all the body feels like doing is taking a nice, deep sleep. A nap before dinner seemed like a great idea.

But before that, she wanted to get comfortable and look over the Jedi text she'd been studying, and all the notes Luke had stuffed between the pages.

A content, relaxed sound passed through her nose as she removed her vest and placed it carefully to the side with her other clothing. She decided to keep on the off-white tunic, but remove her bottoms because she was feeling a bit too warm from the alcohol. Just as she went to undo the fastenings, that dreadful vacuum sensation found its way to her, reaching between time and space, to connect two enemies that were more like rivals that, as it turned out, were mostly like friends.

There she stood; her bare shoulders, her bare arms, her hair was down, cheeks flushed, and yet she still looked the part of a warrior, just a warrior unfettered by physical weapons and armor, with nothing to fight for but her own beliefs, and nothing to protect her but her own strength. It was mesmerizing - like watching a flame take on human form. He had never known that kind of fire before. The Dark Side spoke of passion, but it was murky and full of hatred, inky and perilous like the darkest depths of the deepest secrets. That was a different kind of fire. Black. Rey's was pure. Reds, oranges, yellows, flickering in a dance across her face - inside her soul.

 _The spirit of a true Jedi_ , Snoke had said.

As she stood at the desk, she moved something around - papers? The Jedi texts? He could only catch small flashes of objects as they passed in and out of focus, depending on if she was holding them or not. It was aggravating not being able to see her surroundings, and not because he wanted to know her location. He would've liked to see how she lived; he would've liked to see her studies, and her work. Her thoughts on the Jedi teachings were of particular interest.

But it wasn't time for these thoughts. He shouldn't be so weak as to forget the unspoken words that hung between them thanks to the events on Batuu. She seemed frustrated, though he couldn't see how it was justified. He was the one who'd been played with like a toy. Luke, Snoke - he expected such tactics from the likes of them. But Rey?

"You used me."

She heard it in his voice. The very deep, very heated anger of a person who felt betrayed. Who was hurting.

What was she supposed to say? Yes, there was regret over the way they had parted; she had not wanted things to go that way. Without a doubt, there was every intention in her words when she brought up the topic of needing a teacher. He was the only one who could do it. He was the only one she had. So, yes, _of course_ she'd meant it. But that didn't mean she would feel sorry for helping the Resistance evade the First Order. It didn't mean she'd feel sorry for helping them acquire ships and supplies and the people they so desperately needed in order to rebuild.

"I did what I had to do," she said unapologetically. "You would've killed them all."

He regarded her quietly, face like an impassable mountain.

"We're enemies, anyway," she said and turned away from him, gathering up the notes she'd spread across her desk top.

"I didn't know enemies confided in each other," he said lowly. His expression was still blank, and yet his eyes looked broken.

She sighed, the papers she'd been gathering up slipping from her fingers as she leaned into the chair. "No," she said, relenting, "you're right. But I won't apologize for helping the Resistance, and I won't abandon them."

He huffed through his nose. "They really mean more to you than the fate of the Galaxy?"

"They _are_ the fate of the Galaxy," she insisted, finally turning towards him. "I can't support the First Order."

"I'm only asking you to support me."

Anguish clouded her face, made her brows squeeze together, her eyes sad, her mouth frown.

"You are the Order, now," she whispered desperately. "I want to support Ben Solo, but before me is Kylo Ren."

"Why do the two need to be mutually exclusive? Why can't they want the same things?"

She shook her head and jabbed at the air in the direction of his chest with her finger. "No, _no_. You are not going to seduce me to the Dark Side."

For a brief moment his mouth quirked, almost as if he were going to grin. "I don't need to seduce you, Rey. There's already darkness inside you."

 _You went straight to the Dark_ , rang Luke's voice in her head. She shook it, face scrunched. _No - no! It was an accident. I'd only wanted to see my parents._

"The Darkness has touched you," he said lowly, drawing nearer. "How will you become a true Jedi with a mark upon you?"

"Stop," she growled. His eyes, his words, came flying at her like blaster fire, and she had no protection.

"Stop what?"

His words were a taunt.

Silence passed between them as they stood, staring at one another. She huffed, as usual, while he stood and watched her. Then, a sudden thought came to her - he'd known. She hadn't realized it before, but staring a him then, the epiphany finally revealed itself: he had known the Resistance was on Batuu. He had arrived for a surprise attack. Had he seen the forest when she'd been going up the _Falcon's_ ramp to organize her things? When he'd feigned he had no clue? "How did you know," she asked quietly. She swallowed. Her throat was dry. Had she put the entire Resistance in jeopardy by holding on to him? Was she putting them in jeopardy at that very moment?

"Know what?"

"About Batuu." She licked her dry lips. She couldn't look at him, shame winding its way up her body, through her stomach, making her feel weightless and disconnected.

He could look at her. In fact, he wouldn't look away.

Ah, she was worried he'd seen her surroundings, after all. She was thinking they'd need to stop meeting in order for her to protect them. Should he tell the truth and ease her mind? Or lie to play with her a bit?

"I don't know why you're so angry. Your forces escaped completely unharmed. Only my men died." He paused to let those words sink in. "Two of them were killed by you." Did he sound excited?

She huffed, snorted, unconcerned. "They were just some brainless First Order soldiers. They're better off dead than living under your thumb. I don't regret what I did. I don't regret any of them dying."

In the Force he felt it - the Darkness spreading its greedy hands across her heart, rising up like muck and sludge to devour her.

"Careful," he warned, his voice low and deep, but vicious.

"I didn't," she began in distress, but then stopped with a look of pure horror on her face. "I didn't mean that," she whispered sadly. "Really, it just slipped out. I-I would never mean something like that. I'm just tired and s-s-stressed." She wrapped her arms around herself for comfort and shook like a blade of grass in the breeze. To think she could say something so awful. Finn had once been one of those "brainless First Order soldiers," and he was her best friend.

"But you _don't_ regret it," he pressed.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Yes, yes, of course she did.

"No," he said lowly, drawing nearer. "You regret admitting it. You regret saying words that can't be unsaid. You regret you feel no remorse. But for their deaths, you feel nothing."

She looked up at him, furious - he was wrong! "No," she yelled, "no! That's not true!"

"Embrace it, Rey," he said, finally upon her, their faces only inches apart. "Embrace what you feel."

She couldn't - that was a precarious slope.

The tips of his fingers gripped her chin. Then his hand wrapped around her cheek, his palm warm against her jawline. "We can embrace it together."

Sometimes, in moments such as these, Rey could imagine his voice was silk. Impenetrable, raven silk, wrapping around her senses to ensnare her. And if she let it? Would she lose herself - or find herself?

To hell with it.

As before, she flung her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to meet her. As before, there was a great deal of warmth already sitting upon their lips; it was the heat of expectation and wanting. And though his shoulders were broad and hard, and his chest unyielding, the way his mouth was so supple and needy against her own made her blood flare uncontrollably. The constant needing and dreaming about what it would be like to touch him; their first kiss had only piqued her curiosity, only made her want more. He must feel the same - he had to. Or else his tongue wouldn't be rubbing against her own with such intensity.

They separated briefly, gasping for air, but she kept her arms around his neck, and his arms stayed around her middle, and they held their foreheads together as they breathed.

His unfathomable eyes, with all their emotions and secrets, stared into her. "Do you trust me," he asked quietly in the small space between them.

She rested her head against his chest. "Yes," she breathed.

"Follow me. Don't be afraid," he said in her ear, and reached up to take one of her hands. He entwined their fingers, and then began walking backwards, taking her somewhere she couldn't see because in actuality they were millions of miles apart.

And then he sat and pulled her down into his awaiting lap, and pressed kisses to her neck. Her thighs squeezed around his middle as she straddled him, hands messily tangled in his thick hair. He started licking, and then he started biting - a line up her collar bone to the round of her shoulder. It was bliss. She groaned and urged her hips into him, thighs still tight around him. Every time she squeezed with pleasure, he'd groan onto her skin.

He pulled back and moved them - she had no idea along what; she had no clue what they were on. But once he laid himself down, looking up at her, she realized it must be a bed - only a bed was big enough to hold them like this. She braced herself by pressing her hands to his chest, which rose and fell to match the quick pace of his heart beat. He was enjoying it. He was enjoying _her_. Slowly, her hips moved against him; she felt him tremble beneath her. She felt in control, when so much had been out of her hands, lately. She felt powerful, after feeling untrained and clueless. This was right.

She didn't know what came over her.

Lowering her gaze, her hand moved up his chest slowly, and when it reached his neck her thumb moved over his Adam's apple. Her hand spread across his throat and came to rest with her thumb and small finger directly under the joints of his jaw. He did not look afraid as he looked up, his chin tilted towards the ceiling, as her hand tightened and eased against his windpipe. From her core came the inky tendrils of an inner demon, experimenting with its first chance to rear its ugly head. Kylo Ren would give her the chance to explore that inner demon and all its frenzied - but fragile - wants.

He moaned so loud it echoed. She'd never heard him make that sound before. Why was it so deep and strong, and so vulnerable?

Her other hand pushed its way underneath his clothing to the bare skin of his chest, which she recalled from memory. Now, touching that skin, she felt the thrill go through her, reaching higher and higher. Her other hand gently constricting. His moans like wine across her senses. He was in her power, at her command. She marvelled at her own strength - she marvelled at his.

She leaned down and kissed his open mouth. His tongue rose to meet her lips.

She kissed along the curve of his jawline.

She kissed the scar from her own hand that he wore like a badge.

"Rey?"

The link between them broke, and she was just kneeling on the floor, her hands splayed out in front of her.

"You all right," said Rose's voice behind her. The last time she'd seen Rose, her and Finn had been cheerful and slightly buzzed. Now, even with the redness still in her cheeks, she looked worried.

"Yeah," she breathed heavily. Panted. Why did her chest feel so tight? Why was she gasping for air? "I was just," she swallowed with dry lips. "I was just meditating."

Rose didn't know much about Jedi meditation practices, but she wondered if it was always so intense they looked like they'd just run a mile. "Did something happen?"

Rey wiped at the single bead of sweat that trailed down her hairline. "A-a-a," she stuttered shakily, "a vision, just a vision."

She didn't want to intrude on whatever her friend may have seen, so she simply nodded. "Well, come eat. Dinner's ready. You look like you need a break, anyway. You can't wear yourself out. We need you." Rose had said it lightly, but the words felt more like an accusation.

"Of course. Let me just steady myself and I'll be right there."

Rose smiled and left.

Yes, the Resistance needed The Last Jedi to be their savior. What would they think if they knew their savor had just pushed Kylo Ren to submission under the grip of her hand so she could press her mouth to his skin - his lips, or the scar she'd sliced down his face that had felt, in those dark moments of stirring sexuality, like a mark of possession.

She hung her head. She couldn't stop shaking.


	7. Chapter Seven

Star Wars: Division

I think I mentioned in Chapter Two that this was going to be one of those agonizingly slow-burn types of stories, and like I said in the header of Chapter Six, I'm approaching this fanfiction from a more… professional viewpoint? I mean, obviously I'm just a fan having some fun, but I want it to read like a book. So, once again, be patient with me. Haha. I know Reylo and the romance is what everyone is after, but I just don't want to rush right to it because I think they have a lot of mess to work through and rushing to it would feel inauthentic. I also don't know why I'm venting all this here - no one has complained. I guess it's just a writer's insecurity? *strokes beard introspectively* All the same - thank you to everyone.

To all my readers, please enjoy.

Chapter Seven

"I thought you were sleeping," Leia said as she looked up from the navigational map. Currently, the small band of misfits that comprised the Resistance was on its way to Vrogas Vas - an old Rebel fueling station that had been abandoned in the days of the Empire and the abyssal Darth Vader. After a battle that had pitted three sides against each other - two of which had been Imperial forces - the Rebels had fled their station, and the planet, and never returned. They flew there now, under Leia's advisement, as part of a gambit that, as usual, could see them all dead if they weren't careful or they were unlucky. Likely both. But that was the life of a Resistance fighter - always on the move, never resting, never truly happy, always panicked.

Rey felt that more than any other Resistance fighter left. Even more than Leia, who was herself looking worn and tried as she leaned over their makeshift strategy table, monitoring their progress through hyperspace with creases between her eyes. As the General, and the only leader left who had years of experience and know how, the fate of their group certainly rested heavily upon her shoulders. It wasn't that Rey doubted that, or was trying to make their ordeals a competition. But where Leia had those years of experience, she certainly did not. People were expecting her to do the kinds of amazing things Luke Skywalker had done - the sort of things his sister did on the battlefield and off, in those years she'd served as Senator and fought against things other than blasters and Star Destroyers.

"I could say the same," Rey said as she came forward, out of the hallway, and into the common area proper. The General gave her a small smile and gestured for her to take a seat. Rey did so, and Leia sat down next to her with a sigh.

"Can't sleep, I take it," Leia said ironically. She rubbed her forefinger and thumb across her tired eyelids.

"No," Rey said lowly. "I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep for longer than an hour or two. My dreams," she said, licking her lips. "They're restless, scattered. I hear things, see things, and I can never make them out. It's confusing."

"It's the Force," Leia said knowingly. She looked at the young warrior and felt just a touch of pity. And nostalgia. She had seen this sort of look before - in her brother. After Yoda's passing on Dagobah, Luke had been wayward, too. Lost. Confused. He'd just witnessed the death of their father, who had been the right-hand of a tyrant for so long, murdering and pillaging, but ended up dying a hero to save his son's life. Luke hadn't known what to do or where to go. And just like back then, Leia couldn't help. As a Force-sensitive she could understand the troubles of Force-users, but she herself had never trained or studied the same way Luke or the other Jedi had. That wasn't her path in life.

Rey looked to her expectantly, but it quickly faded when she saw the lackluster expression on Leia's face. "You can't help me," she said sadly.

"I can't," Leia confirmed with another sigh. "Much of that is beyond me."

"But what about during the evacuation? When you brought yourself back to the _Raddus_ after the bridge had been blown up?"

"I knew that was coming so I had time to meditate. Luke did show me a thing or two." She placed a hand on Rey's and smiled sadly. "But I can't help you like a teacher should, Rey. I turned from that life to be a Senator, to be a wife. To be a mother," she said the last words quietly, nearly a whisper, and her mouth turned down in the corners as if even saying it had caused her physical pain.

Leia had been unable to help Ben Solo due to her lack of understanding in the Force and the Jedi Order. That same inadequacy plagued her still, as she looked at the lone Jedi before her who was in desperate need of a teacher. Leia felt her failure with her son anew through the failure she experienced on the _Falcon_ with Rey. An old wound cut back open to bleed fresh blood.

Poe and Finn had both told her, fully animated, how Kylo Ren's TIE Silencer had first blown up the _Raddus's_ docking bay full of X-Wings, and then gone on to shoot up the bridge, which was vulnerable because of the high concentration of their shields on the stern of the ship. If what Leia said was true, and she had known about the coming attack, it meant she felt it through the Force and, most likely, had also felt her son.

Rey frowned. "It must've been hard knowing Kylo Ren was coming to kill you like he did Han Solo."

"It wasn't him," Leia said lowly, looking down into her lap so that Rey couldn't see her expression. "He led the squadron and we sensed each other in the Force, yes. There was a moment, the briefest of moments, that I thought he would shoot. But he didn't." She took a pause, and Rey felt suddenly uncomfortable as if she were an intruder witnessing a very personal matter that was none of her business. "At the last second, he eased off his trigger and it was one of the others that fired," the General finished and looked up, her eyes watery.

Rey didn't know what to say. Here was the General about to cry in front of her, and she was speechless.

"He didn't do it, Rey," Leia said suddenly with a sudden surge of emotion as she grabbed her hand. "He didn't do it. There's good in him, I've always known it. When he had the chance _he didn't do it_ ," she insisted.

Having spent her own time getting to know the enigma that was Kylo Ren, she certainly understood Leia's faith in her son wasn't just that of a desperate mother who wanted to believe their child could come back into the good graces of the Light. Leia wasn't delusional. She saw the good in Kylo Ren like Rey did - through the Force. It was something very few were able to feel, and so to most of the Galaxy he was just a terrifying, murderous death machine rolling through cities and planets alike to enforce Snoke's will - now his own. But the two women sitting side by side, speechless and morose, sensed the deeper inner workings of the mysterious figure, and it confused them both. And gave them hope.

"I love my son," Leia said, squeezing Rey's hand. "I do. I hope, at the end of this, there's still something left of him." With some sniffling, Leia released the younger woman's hand and wiped gingerly at her eyes.

Rey could only hope for the same.

"How much further to Vrogas Vas," she said in order to change the subject.

"Not too long," the General replied, grateful for the switch in topic. "We need to get to the ground for those X-Wings to refuel. Our bigger problem, though," she said with a swipe across the holopad, "is getting us a battle cruiser for those X-Wings to dock in while they're not in use. They can't keep flying alongside us through space. Not only is it a waste of fuel, but even pilots can't live in their cockpits all the time," she said with a grin.

Rey laughed lightly. "I don't know, I think Poe'd like to try. He would if you let him."

"I don't doubt it," the older woman said with a chuckle. "He's not out of his cockpit even when he is. Once a pilot, always a pilot," she said with a far off, glassy look in her eye. Rey got the distinct impression her General was not talking about Poe Dameron with that last statement, though it certainly applied.

"They haven't eaten for ten hours," Rey said with a smirk. "They'll get out of their fighters for that."

"Well, let's hope," Leia said, with a hearty laugh. She eyed the young Jedi for a moment, then returned her gaze to the holopad. "Why don't you try and get some rest? Even an hour will do you some good."

Rey sighed, but quickly perked up with a smile. "You're probably right. I should try." She stood. "Thanks for the chat."

"Any time, Rey," she reached out to take her hand and squeezed it. "Any time," she repeated.

They said their farewells.

Perhaps the impression she'd given was that talking to Leia had in some way eased her mind, but that was far from the case. She was more torn, more confused. Word had gone around that the attack on the bridge was due to Kylo Ren - that evil bastard - and yet according to Leia, that wasn't true. Why didn't the General tell everyone the truth? _What good would it do_ , she thought ruefully. _No one would suddenly feel sorry for Kylo Ren, or sympathetic. Especially not now he's the Supreme Leader._ No, it was a truth that mattered only to her and Leia, the man's mother. Beyond that, it would've been a truth too good for the Dark Force-user and his pitiless soul.

Once more, she stepped into the small quarters that served as her bedroom and sat down on the edge of her bed. Before her, on the small desk, sat the two halves of her lightsaber, the ever present problem she just couldn't solve. Frustration made her want to pick up the two useless pieces and throw them against the wall, but her fear it would further break something - or worse, dislodge the kyber crystal - kept her from acting on that frustration. What she wouldn't give to have one more opportunity to talk to Luke. Even if she only had time to ask one question, being able to understand the construction of a lightsaber was vital information.

"Master Skywalker," she said into the stillness of her room. "Master Skywalker," she repeated, pushing out into the Force. What was she expecting? He hadn't wanted to train her in life; he certainly wouldn't come back from the dead to do it.

Instead, she kicked the edge of the desk in annoyance a couple of times, just to vent her emotions in some small, pathetic way. Something was better than nothing. What really would've done the trick is a battle, but they'd just escaped one. And her emotions on _that_ were decidedly unJedi-like. Something she'd realized with dismay, but had been unable to reconcile. There was no regret over killing the stormtroopers and, if she was honest with herself, she _did_ think death was better than being enslaved by the First Order. At least they were free. Not all of them could escape like Finn had.

Maybe it sounded cruel, but something Rey had picked up on quickly through her experiences with the Resistance and the First Order alike was that there were worse fates than death out amongst the brightly lit stars and planets of their beloved Galaxy.

Was that how Kylo Ren saw it? That death was a far less painful course of events when thinking about the enslavement, the destruction, the blood and violence - the heartbreak - that lay in wait for unsuspecting people to fall victim to? She supposed that may be true; he carried a lot of pain and confusion and turmoil within himself at all times. It'd be easy to see death as a release, rather than something ill-fated.

With a sigh her ran a hand down her face. There she was again, sympathizing for Kylo Ren. It was too difficult to see him strictly as the enemy. They were so alike, sometimes, that it scared her. Would she befall the same fate? Would she turn from the Jedi Order and become a Dark Force-user who only grappled with their own failings and torment by venting it on others across the Galaxy? Making others suffer so that she could feel better? Was that why he did it?

No, Kylo Ren was many things, but a petulant child trying to make others feel what he felt by being cruel and twisted was not one of them. His motivations were pure in nature, she sensed that. It was the execution that was the problem, and his belief it was the only way.

Next to the pieces of the lightsaber lay one of the Jedi texts - open a few pages in where she'd left it after dinner. She moved the cog that was acting as a paperweight, and picked up the book, then sat back down on her bed and let her eyes scan over the page. It wasn't the lightest of reading, that was for sure. She struggled to grasp the concept of simultaneously loving everything and nothing that seemed to be the foundation of Jedi teachings. Personal love was forbidden - it could disconnect a Jedi from their relationship to the Force, or else lead down a dark path a Jedi may not come back from. But a Jedi should feel a widespread love of all living things through the Force, a massive respect that blanketed all creatures, all people, all species and races. To be connected to the Force, but not invested in it emotionally, was something of a problem for Rey. She'd spent all those years alone on Jakku only to finally find a place she could truly call home, and people she could regard as her family. And now the Jedi teachings were telling her these feelings were unwelcome, that they could lead to darker things - fear, hatred, suffering. Finn, Rose, Poe, Leia, Chewie - was she just supposed to forget?

Another sigh, and more frustration, she covered her eyes with her hand and held herself there. Thoughts spinning. What was she going to -

And just like that, he was there. The weight of his gaze was so palpable, even across time and space. But she didn't lift her head; she kept it cradled in her hand. Tired. Too tired to do the mental and verbal dance she played with Kylo Ren in secret.

The Jedi text was still firmly gripped in her hand. "Reading," his deep voice echoed through the Force.

"You could say that," she said, her voice heavy.

"So was I," he said, and she heard the dense _thud_ of a rather thick volume coming to rest upon his desk as he put it down. "Anything interesting," he joked; she wasn't sure if he was trying to be playful, or he was simply trying to mock her.

"You could say that," she repeated.

"Rey," the sound of his worry transmitted well across the distance that separated them. "Did something happen?"

"No," she said slowly, and finally lifted her head to look at him, bleary eyed. "I'm just tired." She yawned. "So tired. I don't know if I can do this right now."

Yes, he'd noticed the worn and battered look of her, but hadn't said anything because he didn't think it was his place. He'd seen that look before - he knew it well, in fact. It was how he'd looked after first arriving at Luke's Jedi Temple.

"It's the Force," he said plainly.

She lifted her head up again. This time, she took a good look. He was sitting, gloves off, his fingers interlaced in his lap as he regarded her. Studied her? Was that right word? Her eyebrows raised a bit. "What?"

Something pulled at his mouth - a smile? "The Force. You're so tired because the Force is moving through you, like a conduit. It happens with all new Force-users who have the potential to be great and powerful. You've opened yourself up to it too much. You need to pull back."

"Pull back," she questioned, and straightened her posture in interest. "Pull back from the Force?"

He considered her words a moment. "Not pull away from it. But close your connection to it. It passes through strong Force-users like electricity does through conductors. Sometimes that amount of connection can help a Force-user see things - distant things, things in the past or future. But if you're connected to it all the time it will drain you. You're basically experiencing the lives of everyone the Force is reaching through you."

It must be true. All her dreams - the visions, the voices, the swirls of erroneous colors that muddled her brain. Perhaps it was because her dreams were actually the lives of others; hearing their conversations, feeling their emotions, reading their experiences.

"Center yourself," he said calmly. "Feel your connection to the Force. When you find it inside yourself, reign it in."

With a determined sigh, she closed her eyes and found her center - something she had been practicing through the few Jedi meditations she'd tried. At least this wouldn't be too difficult. From her center, she felt the Force outside of her and within her - but also something else. A current of the Force that was, just as he'd said, passing through her, using her to strengthen itself. With a careful touch, she gently moved the boundaries of her connection with the Force backwards, limiting its ability to influence her. When she finished, and brought herself out of meditation with careful, measured steps, she came back to the present feeling renewed.

He regarded her. "Luke didn't teach you this?"

She gave him a hard look and _tisked_ through her teeth bitterly. "He didn't teach me much of anything."

"He never was much of a teacher," Kylo Ren agreed, thinking back to the long-buried memories of his youth.

Silence filled the room, and it made her uncomfortable. Oddly, they'd never had this amount of awkwardness between them, and its sudden presence made her want to squirm in place. But she supposed it was up to her to speak on the matter first. After all, she'd been the one who got carried away. "Look," she paused to gather her resolve. "I'm sorry… about what happened the other - I," she struggled to get the words out. Why was this so difficult? "I mean, I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry."

"I don't need an apology," he said simply, but it held a distinctly sensual undertone.

She swallowed. How was he so composed, while she was a jittery mess? He was okay with everything that had happened? He was okay with her hands gripping him, touching him, moving along his bare chest as she -

It wasn't time to relive the moment, she scolded herself. But she wanted to. If she could, she'd do so right then and there, with him so close and willing. Surely, if she just went to him and kissed -

 _Stop it_ , she scolded herself again. This isn't the time. _When is_ , asked some rebellious, sexual part of her mind.

"Well, I just -," she began, but then felt like an idiot. What was she even going to say? She'd just opened her mouth to utter some throw away comment to try and diffuse the tension, but hadn't thought at all about what she'd actually say. "I just wanted you to know, that I -"

His voice was deeper than before. "I don't need an apology," he interrupted her.

She nodded stupidly. "Okay." She gave him a lopsided smile - it was all she had.

As usual, his expression didn't change; it certainly didn't smile. But the look in his eyes and the shape of his mouth were soft. Relaxed.

Then, her eyes were drawn to a blue glow emitting from the desk. She looked over, and saw the kyber crystal softly vibrating. With interest, she reached over and picked up the half that contained the crystal and looked inside. The light swam across her face.

"I need help," she confessed suddenly, sadly, as she gazed at the benevolent light of the crystal. "I don't know what I'm doing."

The crystal was speaking. What it was saying, he couldn't know because it wasn't speaking to him, but seeing Rey hold his grandfather's lightsaber with such care, and such reverence, he knew what he had to do. He'd resolved to teach her. He told himself it was because it'd be a simple way to earn her trust, but the deeper reason - the one he felt floating in his heart - was something different entirely.

"Come here," he said, and got up from his chair. He stepped closer to her, and she did the same, until they met in some odd paradox of time and space and could touch each other, if they so desired, by simply reaching out their hands. They sat, cross-legged, before one another, almost as if they were going to meditate. But instead of initiating the mental exercise, he reached out his hand. Before, Rey may have hesitated to give him the saber, but when he reached out his hand she gave it to him without thinking. A symbol of trust.

As his bare fingers curled around the hilt, their fingers touched. It sent a small thrill through her, but she kept her face blank. She released the lightsaber from her grip, fully intending to let him examine it. But though they could touch it together, as soon as she let go, the lightsaber came to her hand, and would not cross whatever boundary line still existed and could not be broken even through the Force.

"Hold your end," he mumbled gently, already in deep concentration as he leaned himself forward to gaze into the broken half's opening.

She did so, and kept her hand around the lower end of the saber. He gently moved the hilt to and fro as he looked inside it, searching for what, Rey didn't know.

Like this - just talking, just being, working on something - she felt their friendship most of all. It swelled inside her, made her chest hurt, like an emotion too strong and too good to go unfelt.

"What are you looking for?"

"Parts," he mumbled.

She sighed. "I'd hoped you'd be able to fix it because I have no idea how to make a lightsaber."

"I'll show you," he mumbled again, his eyes still locked on the inside of the handle. He placed his hand over it.

She felt him in the Force. "What are you doing," she asked, slightly worried. Was he trying to sabotage it?

He could've laughed. "I'm trying to disassemble it. Some of the parts inside can be reused, but a lightsaber only comes apart through usage of the Force."

"What do you mean?"

He didn't respond immediately. There was a furrowed look of concentration on his face as he tried to do - well, whatever it was he was trying to do. The hilt began to vibrate in their hands, then escalated into some strange jerking motion that she could barely keep her grip on. "Should this be happening," she asked with worry. Her fingers tightened around the hilt so desperately her knuckles blanched.

"No," he grunted in frustration. With a huff, he stopped exerting in the Force, and the hilt instantly went still. "It won't allow me."

It was fighting against him - the kyber crystal. It didn't want to acquiesce to his wishes, so his energy and its energy clashed and made the broken components unstable. Besides that, trying to move the Force across it through the mammoth distance of light years probably wasn't helping much.

"You need to disassemble it. The hilt," he added when she looked confused. He twisted slightly and reached out his hand for his own lightsaber, which came sailing off his desk and into his palm. He laid it down in front of him and used his unique bond with the blade and their connection in the Force to levitate it and slowly unwind all the pieces and components that made up its completed form. It was more complicated than most hilts, given its design, so there were certainly more pieces to his saber than there would be to the one Anakin Skywalker built. He told Rey this when her mouth fell open in shock, worried she'd never be able to understand lightsaber construction.

"Your kyber," she said with a worried gasp. "It's cracked!" She moved as if to reach out and take it, but refrained. "Did I maybe break it?"

Again, he wanted to laugh. "How could you have broken it?"

She shrugged and rubbed her arm with the opposite hand nervously. "I don't know. Maybe when I called it to me on the _Supremacy_. Maybe I pulled it too hard."

"The crystal has always been cracked," he said, laying a hand on hers to stop her nervous ministrations. "It certainly wasn't because of anything you ever did."

"Oh," she said quietly. She watched him take the kyber between his thumb and index finger and examine the fissure line running from top to bottom right down the middle. "What cracked it, then?"

"That's a story for another time," he said evasively, and replaced the kyber in the levitated formation of his lightsaber as it stayed steady above them.

That wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for. They'd been growing close - she wanted truth, honesty. She wanted him to be forthcoming for once. In some desperate attempt to disarm him, the question blurted out of her mouth. "Why did you hate your father?" She had asked this before, but his answer of " _I didn't hate him_ " had never made sense to her. She needed to know.

His body visibly stiffened. Yes, this was perhaps not the best topic of conversation when things between them were finally beginning to feel comfortable. "You hung on to your parents for a long time, Rey," he said with his head still raised towards the disassembled pieces of his lightsaber as he carefully examined each part and piece, no matter how small. "Please don't hang on to mine."

He strictly meant to be evasive, unwilling - _still_ \- to give her a straight answer. His words were not intended to hurt her, but they did. It stung. Mostly because it was such an astute observation that all but threw her weaknesses directly into her face.

"Why won't you answer me," she said, slightly irritated.

"Because you wouldn't understand," he said baldly.

"Yes, I would," she said indignantly.

"So, the girl that's too attached to her own parents, would understand why I was able to detach from mine?"

She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it. Damn him.

Fine. She'd drop the subject and get back to the task at hand. "So, can it be fixed?"

With ease, she watched all the intricacies of his lightsaber slowly come back together, and then seal inside the large, black hilt. He gave her a sidelong look. "It completely split in two. You repair ships, don't you? You didn't really think it could be fixed like this, did you?" His gaze lowered back to the half she was still holding, the insides facing him. He looked at her. "How much do you know about kyber crystals?"

"Only as much as you've told me. The Jedi texts haven't mentioned them, yet."

"Kyber crystals are so powerful and important to Force-users because they're naturally attuned to the Force. Typically to the energy of Light side wielders. They can reject a user or accept a user. It's how a Jedi finds their kyber during their lightsaber training. They seek out the voice of the kyber that is responding strongly or positively to their energy."

Now her brow was the one furrowed in concentration. "So, it's like a living thing?"

"Yes," he let his hands fall to his lap.

"And it, it," she looked for the correct words, "it won't allow you to disassemble it?"

"No," he sighed heavily. It was a disappointing feeling, having his grandfather's lightsaber reject him.

"So…," her words trailed off. She stared at him expectantly, but he just returned the stare. Did he look amused? "Okay, so," she said with a sudden burst of urgency and impatience. "Now what?"

"Now, Jedi," he said with the closest thing to a grin she'd ever seen. "You disassemble it."

"But I don't know - "

"I'll guide you."

All right. Okay. She could do this. She wanted a teacher, she wanted guidance, and here it was. And, if they were successful, she'd get her lightsaber back, and that would give her an odd sense of relief and comfort. It was strange how dependent Force users became on their weapon, but she supposed it made sense knowing what she knew now - that the kyber was sentient, and matched itself to the user's energy. It bonded the user to the saber by making a deep connection in the Force. But then -

"Wait," she said, more curious on the way the crystal worked. "If a kyber bonds with its user, then why did Anakin's lightsaber come to me? Why did it respond to you in the throne room? Why did yours come when I called it?"

He considered her question. "I think Anakin's kyber and mine are similar in their connection to the Force. Both are accustomed to temperamental users, and are perhaps temperamental in their connection to the Force as well." He lowered his eyes to his hands in his lap. "Anakin Skywalker was a powerful Jedi. He did a lot of good during the Clone Wars."

"Really," she said with interest. She knew the stories of Darth Vader; even some 30 years later, his legacy of terror still lived on. But she'd never heard about his days as Anakin Skywalker, and certainly not about The Clone Wars.

Kylo Ren nodded. "Yes, he was a Jedi Knight before he became Darth Vader. He and Obi-Wan Kenobi, his Master, saved a lot of people. He tried to make a difference."

"Then," she said, now more confused than ever. "Why did he become Darth Vader? How could a person like that turn to the Dark Side, and become so evil?"

His eyes were dark. "No one is infallible, Rey." There was a menacing undertone that made her draw back slightly.

"But - "

Kylo Ren didn't turn away, but his next words certainly weren't for her. "I'm meditating, Captain. What is it?"

She watched him in silence. He did the same. She couldn't hear the response from the other side. Perhaps their words were too quiet to travel across their bond in the Force.

"Tell the delegation I'll be there immediately."

He stood and she did the same, giving him a hard look, a look that demanded some kind of explanation. But he stared at her just as hard, his eyes still dark and impassive, as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt. Then, turning away from her, he put on his helmet and cowl and gloves, and gave the fingers a flex inside the black leather. "Your training will have to wait," came his voice through the helmet, distorted and unnatural.

But she didn't want to say good-bye. She'd been learning so much. And she still didn't know how to disassemble her lightsaber. "Ben, wait - "

But he had already made it to the door, and had already walked through it without a backwards glance.


	8. Chapter Eight

Star Wars: Division

I'm surprised this story has already reached Chapter 8 - seems like the time has gone by so quickly. I had gotten into the rhythm of posting on Thursdays, but these last two weeks I've been posting on Friday, which I'm sorry about. But I haven't been feeling well. I'd like to return to posting on Thursdays, but honestly I don't know if I'll keep to a schedule. My only real aim is to make sure I post a chapter a week - the day doesn't matter so much. Anyway - enough rambling. Of course, infinite thank yous to all my readers, followers, favorite-ers, and commenters. Please enjoy.

As always - reviews, comments, questions, concerns are always welcome.

Chapter Eight

After he'd left, she'd taken the lightsaber pieces back to her desk and began scanning through the pages of the Jedi texts, looking for any information on lightsabers. But after only ten minutes of searching she grew frustrated and slammed the book closed, pushing it aside. She would have to give things a try based purely on what little information Kylo Ren had told her and what he had showed her. It was all she had until the next time they met.

She returned to the spot on the floor she had used when in communion with Kylo Ren, and placed the two pieces before her. Tentatively, she reached out in the Force to feel the kyber crystal, unsure of its reaction. Could she make it angry? Disgusted? If it was a sentient thing, as Kylo Ren had told her, then if she did something wrong, would it not listen to her? _It's possible_ , she thought nervously. It had been Anakin's lightsaber, after all, and had ended its duty to the Jedi as soon as he became Darth Vader. It didn't listen to the Sith Lord, who had not been its true creator.

And Kylo Ren? Sometimes it seemed to accept him, and other times it rejected him. And then there was the matter of Kylo Ren's lightsaber, which had come flying to her hand the moment she'd called for it. The Force was confusing; she didn't know if she'd ever escape the mire that was the knowledge of the ways of the Force. But if she continued to be bombarded by questions and curiosity, she would never get down to the practical aspect of her training. With a large inhale and exhale of breath to steady her resolve, she felt deeper into the Force, along the edges and curves of the lightsaber's hilt, and gently prodded against the kyber which, as it had done before, vibrated in such a way as she felt harmonious. A good reaction. That, at least, helped ease the tension pulling all her muscles tight.

Trickier was trying to unravel the way in which the lightsaber was assembled. She was beginning to see why lightsaber construction could only be done by a trained Jedi or Sith, because there were no hinges or bolts or screws or anything holding the hilt together. Every single component and piece was designed to perfectly interlock and fit together without the need of extra hardware. That also explained why lightsabers had never before been constructed by non-Force users, even though plenty of lightsabers had fallen from their dead master's hands into the hands of their murderer. Bounty hunters and assassins in particular were the dark sort that liked to collect them and keep them as trophies. Even so, all anyone outside of the training could ever do was own one that had been stolen; it would never be possible for them to create their own.

Rey struggled with that, now. The seams of the metal casing around the hilt fit so well together that she couldn't see the lines showing where it came apart. They were so small, no thicker than a single strand of a baby's hair, and as nearly transparent, too. "Show me," she urged the kyber, which continued to vibrate, but would do no more. "Show me," she said with more feeling, more frustration. No matter which angle she tried to See the lines from through the Force, she couldn't detect them all, and if she did find one it would quickly disappear, leaving her unable to find the beginning or end.

The hilt, still perfectly stitched together, clanked to the floor as she huffed. She opened her eyes.

"Hello Rey."

"M-m-master Skywalker," she stammered in disbelief. She squinted her eyes. "Are you really here or am I having a vision?"

He smirked gruffly and folded his hands in front of him. "I'm really here.

She lowered her eyes a moment, licking her lips, then looked back up at the faint blue-ish glow of Luke Skywalker's form made whole in the Force. "I don't understand."

"It's time, Rey," he said; a little sadly, she thought. "It's time we begin your Jedi training."

Her eyes glossed quickly with tears; why did she feel so emotional? Maybe it was because finally all her hard work was culminating in something she had come to desire so desperately - to be the Jedi hero everyone already thought she was, and that she was desperate to become for those that needed her. The Galaxy needed the Jedi; it always would. Now, it was her time to lead the Order, rebuild it where Luke had failed before her. She would do it. She would answer this calling.

"Show me the lightsaber," Luke said lowly.

Carefully, she picked up the two pieces that sat before her on the floor and placed them in front of him as he, too, sat cross-legged. She watched Luke inspect the lightsaber in a strikingly familiar way to his former student, who had only just been sitting in front of her as he was, in the exact same spot. It was like having deja vu. She was sure that wouldn't be a training session Luke would've approved of, but then maybe that's why he had appeared to her. Did he know? Had he seen the two of them together in the Force - Kylo Ren the teacher, and Rey his student? Had it worried Luke?

"Hm," he said pensively as he inspected the two halves. "It takes a lot to break a lightsaber like this. But the kyber is perfect," he said with a little sigh of relief. He raised his eyes to his pupil. "Let's begin."

Rey placed her hands over each knee, as she had done in their first lesson on Ahch'To, and nodded her head with a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Luke looked something like forlorn, then. "So am I, Rey. I'm ready to be the teacher I should have been from the beginning."

"Master Skywalker - " she began. She wanted to say it was all right, that she understood his pain and conflict. But he raised his hand to stop her.

"The greatest teacher, failure is," he said, quoting the words of Master Yoda as the ancient tree burned behind them. "I have suffered many failures, Rey. And I have learned from them."

"Yes, Master Skywalker," Rey said with a nod.

"First, ground yourself. Open yourself up to the Force, and your kyber. Let it speak to you. Let the Force speak to you about the lightsaber's deconstruction. It will show you how it can be unmade."

With a deep, steadying breath she grounded herself as she had done with Kylo Ren. When she touched the kyber through the Force, it responded with an energetic, vibrant wave of sound that seemed to ring through her like a bell. It held a lot of memories, this kyber crystal, and it promised to show them all to her in time. For now, it wanted to return to its former glory. For now, all she needed to learn was how to make the lightsaber new again.

The door to the austere meeting room aboard the _Finalizer_ clanked shut behind Kylo Ren, signaling the meeting could begin. Around the rectangular table, the Senators shifted in their seats, mostly due to nervousness at finally meeting the new Supreme Leader; they weren't entirely sure what kind of a leader he'd be. They'd known him as the right-hand of the previous head of the First Order, but rumors had been circling that his demeanor had changed, and his outbursts had all but disappeared. He sat down at the head of the table, clad in his all-black ensemble that, at the very least, was still familiar.

"Senators," came his warped voice from the helmet.

"Supreme Leader," replied Senator Sindian; she, at least, had been dealing with Kylo Ren post-Snoke, so she felt the most comfortable with him. The remaining Senators took her cue and collectively said the same - "Supreme Leader" rung out in the meeting room.

Kylo Ren was already disgruntled with the assembly when the first order of business was opened for discussion - these Centrist Senators which had been showing their support for the First Order, albeit behind the Republic's back, were still sniffing around his heels for more funds; reparations, they said, for the losses they'd suffered after the Hosnian System had been obliterated. Again, he was forced to remind them that not only had they already been provided with ample compensation for their losses - which largely involved military and personnel ships - he was also not the one responsible for what had happened. That directive had been given by Supreme Leader Snoke, and he had no part in its execution. He would not take responsibility for the poor decisions of his predecessor.

It was a poor decision, Kylo Ren had always thought that. Destroying five planets in a single blast seemed like a waste. All of their resources, all their people - burned away by the mighty beam of Snoke's kyber-fueled Starkiller. Of course, Armitage thought it was brilliant; a large display of power and force to bring the rest of the Galaxy to heel. He had long grown used to being at constant odds with his Master and his Master's lackey. Snoke was no Darth Sidious, and Hux was certainly no Darth Vader. They had always lacked the clarity of mind needed to realize their ambitions. The greatest weakness amongst most leaders: a thirst for power.

He wanted power, yes, but not in the same way. Their power was meant to be like jewelry, some gaudy thing they wore about themselves to flaunt and show off. He asked only for the strength to accomplish his goals and unite the Galaxy once and for all. Unlike them, he didn't need to be powerful to feel important. Much like Darth Vader, he sought only peace.

Of course, the next order of business after that had been to listen to the sniveling Senators go on about the remaining Populist Senators, and the whispers circulating about their desire to unite with Leia Organa's band of misfits. Like all covetous, greedy, suspicious people, their concerns rested primarily with maintaining the power and wealth they had acquired, rather than the well-being of their people, their planet, or the Galaxy as a whole. They feared Leia's Resistance would rise up with the remaining Republic figures and have the potential to overthrow the First Order. If that happened, they'd all be thrown from their Senatorial positions and never welcomed back, labelled traitors and cowards. They feared the ends of their political careers, and the loss of all their private ships and fancy accoutrements - the clothes, the hair styles, the jewels, the banquets. If only he didn't need these imbeciles to achieve his aims; he'd sooner see them all begging in the streets, a worthy fate for such disgustingly weak people.

Honestly, it was becoming increasingly likely that the remnants of the Republic would be joining with Organa, and once that occurred full scale war would once again be realized. Hux was failing miserably at locating the Resistance - so miserably, in fact, Kylo Ren had begun to wonder if he did it on purpose. He'd accused him of as much not too long ago, but now he was beginning to think that was accurate. If the Resistance wasn't found, then the Republic could join with them and then, as pointed out, war would be inevitable. Perhaps Hux wanted war. War would give him the perfect cover to sneak about and work towards Kylo Ren's demise. While the Supreme Leader was busy orchestrating an entire army and the politics of ruling the Galaxy, Hux could double-cross him with ease. Better yet, if he died out on the battlefield all of Hux's problems would be solved just like that, without a need for lies or fabrications.

"If the Resistance grows in numbers, then we will continue the war," he said simply amid the frantic chatter of the frightened Senators. "But worry not, Senators, you won't be asked to fight. You can enjoy the view from your Yachts, and let me do all the work."

The assembly hushed, embarrassed and humiliated by the Supreme Leader's words. A few shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, or glanced side long at their colleagues, but most remained still, too nervous to do or say anything in case they'd made Kylo Ren angry.

"Well," said Senator Sindian, giving Kylo Ren a brief smile as she rose from her chair and clapped her hands together, "I think our final order of business will be on electing a new First Senator, seeing as the Republic's Chancellor is no longer with us." The assembled politicians smirked or sneered; Chancellor Lanever Villecham was regarded by the Centrists as a fool, firm in his belief that the First Order was no threat to the Republic all the way up to the moment of his death. He had died with Hosnian Prime.

"Agreed," said Senator Madmund. "We should continue on without the Populists and select someone our esteemed Supreme Leader can work best with, in order to accomplish the Senate's and the First Order's aims for the Galaxy."

"Then, we should vote for nominations," said Senator Fatil.

There was a murmur of agreement that passed through the room. "How shall the candidates be chosen for nomination? I suppose two nominations will suffice," added Senator Mortan.

"Yes," chimed in Senator Madmund again, "two nominations will do. I suppose we should evaluate each Senator's credentials, and decide based off that."

Another murmur of agreement with lots of nodding.

Carise Sindian cleared her throat, still standing, and looked at Kylo Ren, who was leaned into his right arm as it sat propped on his arm rest. "Do you have any recommendations, Supreme Leader, for who should be nominated to the position?"

 _Ah, Sindian, you snake_ , he thought to himself as he stared at the woman through his helmet's visor. She was trying to get his backing in order to bypass the nomination process entirely and immediately put her name up for the running. After all, whichever Senator he spoke up for, no one would defy him. Indeed, they'd probably continue the election process for posterity, but no matter which Senator ran against the Supreme Leader's chosen candidate, none of them would actually choose him or her in the end. They'd choose the Supreme Leader's Senator; they'd feel they had no choice. Unfortunately for Sindian, she greatly overestimated their relationship.

Still leaned against his arm, looking somewhat bored, he eyed her. "The elections of the Senate are none of my concern, Senator. What the delegation decides to do with its votes and nominations are purely up to the individuals."

She faltered a moment, then quickly recovered. "Well, yes, of course Supreme Leader. But I meant, isn't there a Senator you have a preference for? To help you carry out your glorious work?"

There was only one person who could help him carry out his "glorious work," and she was light years away in the bosom of his mother. "I have faith the delegation will choose the best person for the position of First Senator without my interference."

He stood. As he did, Sindian sat, her conniving scheme momentarily quelled. "If that is all, Senators, I think this meeting has come to an end." Before any of them could say anything more to keep him, he turned and left the room.

With heavy eyelids, he made his way towards the section of the _Finalizer_ that held his private quarters.

"Kylo, wait."

Annoyed, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. Carise Sindian was approaching with quick footsteps, holding her long dress in her left-hand to avoid tripping on it as she went. She was just the sort of Senator he despised - a duplicitous, conniving, power hungry piece of ooze that would backstab and blackmail her way through others to achieve her aims. She was the sort of person that ruined a system like the Republic; the greed that flowed through her veins seeped into every aspect of her politics, infecting all it touched.

When she drew level with him he could already see the beginnings of a pout. Indeed, Sindian was the kind of woman who was used to getting her way, and when she didn't she relied on her beauty to do it for her. Unfortunately for her, Kylo Ren wasn't swayed by physical appearances or the attentions of pretty women. He cared for the singular attention of one woman - no more.

"Kylo," she said again, trying to force some kind of intimacy between them that surely wasn't there. "I mean," she smiled demurely, "Supreme Leader, I was hoping we could discuss the matter of the nomination for First Senator in more depth."

"Ah," he said, bored. He could already see where this conversation was leading. "What about the discussion we just finished did not satisfy you, Senator?"

There was a quick frown at the corners of her mouth, perhaps at being called "Senator," and not "Carise," or even "Sindian," which might impart an affection or closeness he had with her. They had been working together over the past few weeks, and she was hoping he wouldn't be so cold. Winning over the Supreme Leader's favor was a desirable accomplishment indeed. "Well, I was hoping you might reconsider your decision to abstain from voicing your opinion. You know, the Supreme Leader's choice for First Senator would do a lot to sway the members into unifying behind one candidate."

"The figurehead elected to the position of First Senator is none of my concern, as I said." He looked down at her sternly, though the expression of his face was hidden behind the intimidating visage of his mask. "As long as they answer to me, I don't care who it is."

For a moment she looked flustered, rapidly blinking her eyes with her mouth closed tightly. Then she regained her faculties. "Well, yes, of course the First Senator would ultimately answer to you, Supreme Leader, that's why I'd expect you'd like to elect someone who you already work well with, in order to ease the process and make for a strong political bond."

"I'm assuming, Senator," he said, weary of the games already, "that you're suggesting I back you for the nomination?"

She smiled coquettishly and it was all he could to not roll his eyes. "Well, I certainly feel qualified for the position, and you and I have worked well together these past weeks, getting things in order and pushing plans forward. We could make an excellent team."

He straightened himself, rising to his full height. "I don't need a teammate, Senator, I need a subordinate. I'm sure whoever is elected will discover that soon enough, so it doesn't matter to me who is chosen. Now, if we're finished - " he made to turn away.

Quickly, her hand snapped out and grabbed him by the upper arm, though gently. "Kylo, please, I think if you'll just let me explain my ideas for the future of the First Order, you'll see I'm truly the best candidate for the job."

He looked down at the hand around his arm and then to her, growing irritated. With one step, the distance between them all but closed, and he was practically saying into her ear, "Remove your hand, Senator, before I detach it from your body." With a sharp gasp of fear, she released her hand and let it fall to her side, limp. "What did you think was going to happen, Senator? Did you think you'd be able to charm me because you're beautiful?"

"No! No, of course not Supreme Leader. I just thought - "

Her thoughts and emotions played across her mind loudly, and he sensed them with the Force. "You thought that because we have a common enemy, I'd be willing to help you."

Her bottom lip quivered. In actuality, Carise Sindian was a coward, the sort of snake-like person who never got their hands dirty because it was so much easier and guilt free to have someone else clean up the mess. And, yes, because of her striking appearance - the jet black hair and chocolate eyes and elegant dresses - many men lusted after her, and she used all of it to her advantage. But never before had she not only been turned down, but threatened in such a way; she was afraid. No, terrified.

"I just thought," she said breathlessly, "you'd understand my aims."

"What happened between you and Leia Organa is for you to stomach, Senator. You discredited her in front of the entire Senate chamber, and she got her revenge because you were too sloppy and got caught. And she did it so well," he said darkly, leaning down even closer to her pretty, delicate little ear that lay exposed to the air because she'd tucked her long, flowing hair behind it, "that you'll never be called Lady again, no matter if you become First Senator or not." He inhaled deeply. "You lost."

Then, he stood to his full height and turned, leaving her there to wallow in her impotent rage and bitter memories. She thought he'd help her out of sympathy, camaraderie, but he'd never help someone who had not only disgraced his mother, but his grandfather's name and lineage as well. She was a fool. His mother always warned him against making enemies, especially amongst a group that one had to work with, but he couldn't even feign neutrality, let alone diplomacy, with a woman like her. He was sure this wouldn't be the last of it - she'd find a way to breach the subject again before she left his ship to return to Arkanis, her homeworld. Let her bring it up - his stance wouldn't change.

Relief greeted him at the door to his private quarters as he entered his personal code and the door slid open. She had never set foot in this room, but there were so many memories of Rey that lingered in its walls, held captive and secret and sacred, unable to bleed out into the other dirty parts of his twisted up life. It was a sanctuary of sorts, and he had come to associate it with her because of their constant conversations that occurred there. And those other, more intimate things, he thought as his eyes passed over the length of his bed. She had straddled him atop that bed, had touched him, kissed him, claimed him. She had felt so dark and needy, a mirror to how he felt every day.

When would this game end between them?

Sighing, he undressed, first removing his gloves, then his helmet, then the cowl, and so on and so forth until he was bare chested and ready to sleep. There would be a formal dinner in a few hours time to honor the Senators, but it was an affair he knew he wouldn't be able to attend and stomach his way through unless he was well rested, and at the moment he was exhausted. If Rey had looked haggard, he must look like Death. No amount of showering or clean clothes could hide the dark circles under his eyes, or the haunt in his stare. Certainly, they couldn't silence his thoughts, which were his biggest problem, and the heaviest weight he carried.

He turned his intercom system to 'emergency only' and then let himself slide into bed indulgently. What he wouldn't give to have rest unplagued by dreams. Or memories. While Rey's had come from being connected too much to the Force, his came from the torment of his own mind. And unlike her, he could not close himself off from it; it was a burden, always there.

With a small sound similar to a ship door sealing, the hilt of the lightsaber came back together and was once more whole. She looked at it in wonder as it rested across the palms of her hands. This was the biggest Jedi accomplishment she'd reached, yet - the construction of her lightsaber. With Luke's instruction, she had been able to speak to the lightsaber in a way only she could, and found the seam lines, and then very slowly, very carefully released the hilt until both pieces came apart and were nothing but the individual parts.

"It will need a new hilt casing," Luke had said, as she gazed over the layout of the pieces before her. "But it appears not many other things were damaged." What was damaged he told her she could find easily. Luckily, all the difficult materials were intact and in great working order for use. His lesson had ended there, with his last bit of advice to go out and find materials for a new hilt casing as soon as possible.

"I will, immediately," she said with elation. The thought of having the lightsaber back at her belt was exhilarating; she couldn't wait.

By then, they had landed at Vrogas Vas. It was a derelict planet - dry, somewhat barren. "Ravaged by the Empire," Leia had muttered to her under her breath as they descended the ramp. It certainly was nothing like Takodana or Batuu.

"It's a good sign, though. It could very well mean it's still abandoned," Leia continued, as they all emptied out of the _Falcon_ , and the X-Wing pilots finally made their descent to earth after being in the air for some 12 hours, depleting their fuel to just-before-empty. Next to the _Falcon_ , the _TL_ made its landing and also emptied, and a quick assembly was formed in the old, abandoned fueling station of the Rebels.

"Lieutenant, first order of business is to get our signal broadcasting. We need to reach our allies in the Republic, however many of them remain. And if we can, let's see if we can't begin recruiting to our cause."

"Yes, General," said the Lieutenant, and she immediately grabbed two of her communications officers and went to set up the equipment amongst the fueling station hangar's debris.

The meeting was brief, but everyone was in good spirits, still riding their high after the miraculous escape on Batuu (which many were attributing in large part to their Jedi hero), and some broke out the remaining alcohol from their Batuu overstock and began the party anew. Poe was eager to join them, and he drug his friends along, though to be fair none of them were resisting. Rey noticed Poe was like a new man - back to his old charming, dashing, rogue-ish self now that he had a fighter plane to call home. It suited him. He had never lost the upbeat attitude or the charm, but something had been off about him before, right after the events on Crait. He'd been introspective at times, a bit cynical at others. But now he was just an ace pilot again, with a very large axe to grind against the First Order.

The celebrations had gone on for a bit, but Rey excused herself to get a move on with the completion of the lightsaber. As a former scavenger, roaming around the debris and ruins was familiar - almost comfortable - territory, and it didn't take her very long to find the materials she needed. If she'd had a knack before for sensing out parts in the gargantuan remains of old Star Destroyers, she certainly was adept at it now, when she was actually intending to use the Force to find them.

She had her things in hand as she ascended the ramp to the _Falcon_ , when Leia spotted her and called out to her. She stopped and turned.

The General walked closer to her. "Have you eaten, Rey?"

She smiled. "I have, yeah. I was a part of that party over there," she said, gesturing with a hand towards the group of laughing, dancing Resistance members, "not too long ago."

The General turned back from eying the group, and gazed up at the young Jedi. "But you have work to do, I take it?"

Rey's smile widened, lighting up her entire face. "Very important work."

Leia nodded. "Then I won't keep you."

Rey nodded in return and continued up the ramp. Once she reached her bedroom, she went quickly to the parts that were still laid out carefully on the floor and replaced all the damaged ones with the new ones she'd nicked from the rubble. She set the new hilt casing down. Next to the remains of the old one, the new casing looked decidedly more shabby; where Anakin's hilt was smooth, shiny, and brilliant silver, hers was dark grey, like gunmetal, and the texture had a matte like finish so her face did not entirely reflect back at her when she gazed into it. Still, the materials would work for now. That's what really mattered. When she got the chance to replace it with more expensive materials, she'd do so. But as Luke had told her - it wasn't the appearance that made the lightsaber.

Once completed, she'd taken to running through some of the fighting stances and forms she knew (though how she knew them, she didn't know). They were the same as she had practiced on Ahch'To, when she'd accidentally cut the rock in half. They felt good, these forms; they suited her.

"The Force is the Light," she said as she moved, "the Force is the Dark. Jedi choose the Light, for all it reveals." She remembered when C-3PO had first read that line from the Jexi texts, acting as her translator. She repeated the words as she trained like a mantra. It focused her mind.

It was while she was training that the connection bridged them together again. Startled from her concentration, she quickly deactivated the lightsaber and searched for him. He was to her right, but it looked like he was sleeping. Or had been sleeping; he stirred while she drew closer. His expression was calm and easy, like she remembered it from the _Supremacy_.

Navigating the pure darkness in front of her - except for his relaxed form - she made her way closer and found what must've been the end of his bed, and sat down. Actually, she was looking forward to their meeting, now that she'd fixed the lightsaber. She wanted to share her accomplishments with him.

"Rey," he said hoarsely; his eyes came open. "What are you - " he cut himself off and looked quickly to the door, which was sealed shut, and then back to her. "How did you get in here?"

She showed him a gentle smile. "It's the Force connection. I'm not actually there, well - _here_ ," she said.

 _Of course_ , he thought ruefully. Having her there would be too good to be true. He wiped a hand across his eyes and sat up.

She hadn't noticed before, but she noticed it then. He was bare chested. Why was she always coming across him when he wasn't fully clothed? Did the Force have a sense of humor? "I'm sorry if I woke you up," she said shyly, unable to look at him as he eyed her where he sat.

"You didn't," he said simply. He had been waking up on his own. Though, he had thought seeing Rey was a dream; it was the kind of dream he sometimes had in his more restful moments, when nightmares and memories didn't haunt him.

"I have," she bit down on her bottom lip, something he'd never seen her do before. "I have something to show you." From the other side of her the lightsaber came into view, as she took hold of it in the palms of her hands and showed it to him in all its newly constructed glory. Her accompanying smile almost outshone the lightsaber. Her whole being was aglow.

She had wanted to share this moment with him, and he couldn't be more pleased as he took in the new hilt and its dark, grey color. Excited, she gripped it in hand and ignited the blade with the characteristic _voom_ , and its blue, gently pulsing aura cast a light across his face. It was odd how this lightsaber had come to symbolize so much, especially between them. She had wounded him with this lightsaber, and yet he had helped her in remaking it. He didn't resent it or her. In fact, he cared for them both.

It dawned on him, however, that she should not have been able to reconstruct it without his help. They had ended their lesson early; he had never shown her exactly how to disassemble it, and he certainly hadn't told her which pieces were dysfunctional. She should not have been able to make it work, even if she had been able to deconstruct it. She was powerful and smart, yes, but no Force-learner would be able to accomplish such a thing.

She had had help.

Kylo Ren looked at her as she smiled and de-ignited the blade. It couldn't have been his mother; she knew nothing of lightsabers. But if it wasn't him, and it couldn't be his mother, then who - ? _Luke_ , he thought bitterly. Had his Master become one with the Force in order to return to Rey as a Ghost? He had never seen it himself, but he heard stories about Ghosts in the Force, former Jedi who lived within its energy and could return to the living for brief moments in order to impart wisdom, share knowledge, guide hands. Luke had been taught in such a way by Yoda in the years following the collapse of the Empire, and he'd also heard stories of the Force Ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Leia had mentioned seeing Obi-Wan Kenobi's Ghost, once. Surely, this was how Rey had finished the lightsaber.

"Did you have help," he asked, leaving it open to interpretation. She could easily say she'd had help from the Jedi texts if she wanted.

"No," she said quickly, and even though her face had no real giveaways he could see it, he still knew she was lying. Her face was too honest not to show it, even without the usual physical tells like an eye twitch or a tug at the corner of the mouth.

She had lied to him. Somehow, that was a painful truth.

He wanted to confront her, but he also wanted to savor this moment, this moment in which she'd come to him seeking his approval. "I'm proud of you," he said, and placed a tentative hand on hers.

She looked away, perhaps shyly, but again turned her eyes on him. "I know it isn't perfect," she began.

"How it looks isn't important," he said. "What matters is that you did it."

Just like Luke - they really were Master and Student, even if neither of them had been able to reconcile that fact. These were the moments that she saw Ben Solo and his Master's guidance, and the lessons he'd learned from the Jedi Order that still lingered in his mind. They still influenced him, no matter how cynical and bitter he'd become, and that's why both his mother and Rey were unable to let go of the idea he could be saved. _He can be_ , Rey thought hopefully. _This proves it_. This was as close to a gentle side she was going to get, but still, it _was_ a gentle side.

The urge to kiss him rose up in her. How could she not, with his eyes searching her face, his hair still slightly messy from sleep, his chest very much bare and within arm's length.

So she did, and threw caution to the wind yet again.

It was with such automatic, instinctual movements that she was pulled onto his lap as their mouths met, his hands already in her hair. All of her happiness and joy buffeted her forward like a wave, eager to crash against him, eager to suck him into her moment in the sun. She should not have cared so much about what he would say when he saw the completed lightsaber, and yet hearing he was proud, and hearing she'd done well, had given her such an overwhelming rush of ecstasy. He showed he cared; it showed he cared like she cared.

Her mouth and tongue moved along the firm curves of the muscles in his shoulders and chest as she left kisses, and playful nibbles, and absorbed the sound of his moans so close in her ear. He gripped the back of her neck to encourage her, so she left him a few bites along his neck as he'd done previously to her, before rejoining their mouths in a passionate kiss.

 _The dinner_ , he thought reluctantly through the haze of pleasure as Rey's thighs tightened around his lap while he held her and their lips grew hot. They would be expecting him. _Dammit_.

He pulled away. Rey looked confused as his hands cupped her face. "I can't," he breathed.

"Stop me," she said under her breath, her chest pressed against him. "Tell me no."

But he couldn't do that. All he could do was look into her eyes; in the murky waters of her gaze he saw, with an unreasonable amount of pleasure, sensuality and fervor. Her lips were such a dark pink. They were a tease all their own, swollen and hot, and when she bit down on the bottom one he relinquished control of his faculties and flipped her, pinning him beneath his body. He hadn't seen her like this, yet, with her hair fanned out around her. With her expression so strong and sensual, but so vulnerable. Like he could do anything, and she'd never let him stop.

His palm moved over the curve of her breast, bound as it was beneath her tunic, massaging and teasing. She moaned and arched up into him, so he gave it a gentle squeeze and saw her brows knit together. What he wouldn't give to rip off her austere colored clothing to reach the flesh within, and yet he was too anxious that would be taking things a step too far. He didn't want to break boundaries - well, _he did_ , if things were any indication, but he only wanted to break them if she would accept him doing it. Their relationship was tenuous at best; one wrong move and he could drive her away.

"Touch me," she begged beneath him; she must have sensed his thoughts. "I'm not afraid."

But she didn't wait for him to begin the process, and instead rose up on her elbows and took off her vest, then pulled her tunic over her head, leaving nothing but the wrappings. Her hands roamed down his chest, then up, over his shoulders, and down his arms, letting her nails drag down until she was at his wrists and gripping them desperately. "I want you," she whispered.

"I want you, too," he confessed in a rush, then all but tore what remained of her covering off to reveal her naked breasts underneath. Round and sweet, like he imagined them, all that was left was to taste them. Palming one, he dipped his head and took in the other by the nipple and relished her sharp intake of breath while she tugged at the hair at the base of his neck. Everything about her crashed against his senses - her sounds, her smell, her taste, and the vixen-like way she was raising her hips up into him. Coaxing him, making him rise to her temptations. Hell if it wasn't working; hell if he didn't feel like he was wrapped around her finger, even as his tongue languished across the shape of her nipple and made her melt in his hands.

He lowered his palm to the spot between her legs, still clothed, but still very much alive. He cupped her, with his palm pressing into the skin just above her clit, and she cried out in surprise, jolted by the sudden spike of pleasure. But it had meant to be a question - a question as to whether or not things would move forward. Her hands at the hemline of his own pants confirmed the answer.

As they both began stripping their lower halves, an unfamiliar voice reached Rey's ears. "Supreme Leader," said a silky, feminine voice. "The feast is about to begin. I thought you and I could walk down together. Perhaps pick up our previous conversation?"

He hung his head in frustration. Still unable to concede defeat, now she was intruding on possibly the best moment of his life. "Fine, Senator," he said bitingly. "I'll be out shortly."

When he took in Rey's face, he knew something was wrong. She looked upset. And not in the sense of being on the verge of tears; she looked furious. Had she heard? But they usually weren't able to hear or see anything on the opposing person's side of the Galaxy.

"I'm sorry," he said, rolling off of her with a great deal of reluctance as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I have to go." He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "There's a feast being held for visiting Senators. The delegation I had to entertain earlier."

"You don't need to explain your First Order business to me."

Disappointed, and fearing the look on her face, he glanced back over his shoulder. All that remained of her beautiful body was the beautiful outline it had left in his sheets.


	9. Chapter Nine

Star Wars: Division

I want to dedicate this chapter to the four people (really, it's six, I think, but two are guests) who have left me comments. I really really appreciate it, even if you think your comment was short or silly or whatever - honestly, getting comments from readers is a huge motivation, but also a huge reward for hard work. Thank you very much.

Meshale, ACourtofDarkandLight, ClumsyAme, Roacharoo

Back to a Thursday update! I'm pleased.

A little perspective on this chapter and the next: this one is mostly from Rey's side, and the next will mostly be from Kylo Ren's side. I wanted to give some dedication to setting up for future battles and conflict as war once again breaks out between the Resistance and First Order, and thought giving some solid set-up information was important. Although, Kylo Ren has a new problem - we'll learn about that next week!

Chapter Nine

As always, the steady hum of a lightsaber beam had a calming effect on her mind. Running through a new Jedi form, it took all her concentration to take the right steps, and angle her blade in just the right way. This was something she didn't have experience with, this new form. Honestly, it was still a bit of a mystery as to how she had knowledge of any of the forms, though past conversations and revelations were leading her to the conclusion it was because of that one interrogation that had changed everything.

Yes, changed everything. Their first meeting. Now look at them. She didn't know what to make of whatever situation they had put themselves in. They often acted like enemies, but spoke as friends. And then, interspersed between those moments - as if they weren't perplexing enough - they'd have extremely intimate moments that felt too good to be true, but they were also corrupting, like she was being engulfed by him.

It was a confusing thing, to be half naked on a man's bed, flushed and wanting, only to be interrupted by the sound of a smooth, sexy woman requesting said man over his intercom. Confusing because she wasn't entirely sure what she felt was jealousy, though it was perhaps the expected reaction. Somehow, she didn't think she was getting two-timed with some other woman; call her crazy, but if she knew him at all, he wasn't that kind of person. But she did feel something, and that was the part that was really bothering her, because she hated thinking she was acting like a jealous girlfriend, when that was the furthest thing from what she was.

 _Girlfriend_ , she snorted. How ridiculous.

She may not know what to make of anything, but maybe she wasn't supposed to. Maybe the Force was leading them both on an intangible journey.

"What's on your mind, Rey," intruded Master Skywalker's voice on her thoughts.

She lowered her lightsaber, frozen in the middle of her Form III training. "Nothing, Master Luke. Why?"

He gave her a piercingly knowing look, his chin dipped down to his chest so he was looking at her from under his eyelids and furrowed brow.

She sighed, averting her eyes, before shrugging under the penetrating weight of his gaze. "It's just stress, Luke. The Resistance, my Jedi training - "

"Ben Solo."

She froze mid-swing and swallowed. She avoided his gaze, but felt it on her all the same. Did he know? About the connection she shared with Kylo Ren? He'd seen them that night on Ahch'To, when they'd touched hands, and he was one with the Force, now, so _surely_ he must know.

"I don't know what you saw, Rey, that night," Luke said with a world-weary sigh, "but you cannot base your actions or expectations off of one vision. 'Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future,'" he quoted from his own early days of training, decades ago on the boggy, murky planet of Dagobah with Yoda. That was a lesson he should've learned then, especially after hurrying off to face Darth Vader when he wasn't the least bit ready. He'd lost more than a hand for that decision. And yet, he had grown so wary of his own nephew, and the power growing inside him, that visions and mixed feelings had nearly convinced him to murder Ben in cold blood; just a teenager, caught in sleep, emotional and at-odds like any teenager would be.

"Master Skywalker," Rey questioned lowly. So, he hadn't meant their Force connection. He was talking about something else, ready to impart Jedi wisdom. "But I thought visions were to help guide the Jedi?"

With an exhale, he nodded his head, "Yes, yes, visions can certainly provide guidance. But guidance only, Rey. Do not accept what you see as fact or truth. Visions are a possible outcome in an array of many. The future is constantly in motion - it cannot be predicted. Not even by Jedi."

She swallowed again, and noticed how dry her throat was. It was sound advice; she had put so much of her faith into that vision, believing Ben Solo could be saved, that she'd launched herself directly into the _Supremacy's_ path, in order to be found by him. And look how that had turned out. _But it wasn't a complete loss_ , she thought to herself. Even though their relationship was an indefinable, entangled mess, still - Kylo Ren as new Supreme Leader of the First Order had yet to instate any oppressive law, or make any drastic decisions. Having finally reached the throne, one might expect the hot-tempered Kylo Ren to go wild, cutting an angry swath across the Galaxy on his journey to conquest and power. At the very least, made some kind of public announcement or display declaring the First Order the new government, with him as its recalcitrant tyrant, eager to lord over lesser beings and enact his plans for 'peace' and 'harmony.'

But he had done none of those things. It had only been a few weeks, but still - Kylo Ren was making no mad-dash for the power vacuum his own Master had created upon the destruction of the Hosnian System and half the Galactic Senate along with it. Sure, it was clear he had things going on, plans in the works so to speak, but he still had made no major shows of power, no major claims to the government, and given no indication he'd be assuming any kind of Emperor Palpatine-type role.

Sometimes she thought she believed in him too much, and yet other times, when she sat down and thought about his words, his actions - or inactions, in this case - it was hard not to believe in him.

 _What about Batuu_ , prodded a cynical voice in the back of her mind. _He wasn't too shy about his intentions, then, was he?_

That was true. It was clear he'd been intending to wipe the Resistance off the board once and for all. And if she hadn't been able to intervene like she did, she was sure he would have succeeded. Is that what he was waiting for? For the Resistance to be gone? For the war to be officially over? _No_ , she thought, agonizing over the situation. _Leaders have stepped into ruling positions in the middle of war before, that's nothing new. And with the Resistance so small and cornered, there's nothing to stop him._ So? What _was_ he waiting for?

"Rey?"

She startled and nearly dropped her lightsaber right out of her hand. "Sorry, Master Skywalker, I was just, well, thinking," she said wiping a shaky hand across her brow. If she'd had dropped her lightsaber just then, it was very possible she'd be without any toes. With a bit of nervousness under Luke's strangely heavy gaze, she deactivated the saber and clipped it to her belt. "Perhaps a break would be a good idea," she suggested lightly.

With a nod of his head, he conceded. "All right. I'll return to you when I can. In the meantime, practice your forms," he wagged a finger at her. "I want to see some improvement on the fluidity. A fault in your transitions can be the difference between a deflected blaster bolt, and a direct hit. You're too rigid. Soresu is all about precise movements, remember that."

She smiled a little, nodding, enjoying the deepening of their relationship as Master and student; it was certainly an improvement over whatever they'd had on Ahch'To. "Yes, Master Skywalker."

The blue aura of his earthly form faded and returned to the Force.

The next couple hours or so were spent getting cleaned up, eating lunch, and relaxing with a few games of cards with Poe, who had seen her pull some mean tricks during an evening of Dantooine Double-Hand that had really spiked his interest. As a pilot, Poe had always thought of himself as pretty sharp with card games; when pilots weren't flying, there usually wasn't much else to do except play cards, so he had years of experience. The thing that had caught him off guard was realizing Rey did, too. The deserts of Jakku had their fair share of thieves, smugglers, gamblers, and layabouts. Over the years, she'd picked up some useful things.

"We should be playing for credits," Poe mumbled in good humor as he shifted the cards around in his hand.

"I'm not afraid," Rey said with a quirked eyebrow, as she mimicked his movements with her own cards.

He looked over the tops of his cards, eyes narrowing. "Are you copyin' me?"

With a sideways look she feigned innocence.

"Oh, yeah, Jedi," he said, gaining momentum towards his big play. "Let's see what you think of this." And he laid down his cards.

But as ever, Rey was a step ahead, and countered the play with a few moves of her own. Open-mouthed, Poe could only stare at the table, his eyes practically ready to pop. She laughed, and gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Just think, if we had been playing for credits, I'd be a rich girl."

"You'd be a card shark, is what you'd be," Poe muttered in disgruntled poor sportsmanship, folding his arms as he fell into his seat and leaned back against the chair. "You could make a really good hustle, doing that," he said, motioning with his chin to the cards.

"Yeah, well, I think I may have a higher purpose than hustling people at cards," she said with a cheeky smirk.

He grinned. "Oh, you think you're so hot, huh? Go again, come on, come on." Impatient, he gestured for her to hurry up and anted back up to the table.

Finn walked up, smirking, while he polished off a ship part. "Still trying to beat her at cards, huh? You'll never win."

She smiled up at her friend. "How're the repairs coming along?" Some of the X-Wings they'd received had minor damage that they were taking the time to get in order. Nothing major; nothing that kept any of the fighters from flying or functioning in any way, but it certainly wouldn't have been smart to ignore them. Considering they planned to be on Vrogas Vas for a little bit, they'd taken to going over the ships and making sure they were at 100 percent.

Finn worked on a smudge that was clinging defiantly to the curved surface of what looked like a compressor. "Good, real good. That new pilot? She's a whiz with repairs. Probably better than you."

"I just wish Leia would let me near them," she said with a small pout as she dealt the cards.

"You've already got enough going on," Poe mumbled as he picked up his cards and started arranging his hand. "You don't need to worry about some minor ship repairs when you've got more important things to do."

"Poe's right, Rey. For a week you barely slept at all. Let the rest of us worry about the ships."

She huffed, but it was mostly for show. She understood why they weren't allowing her to play mechanic on top of all the other things she was dealing with - some of which they weren't even aware. Leia had all but forbidden her from being near the ships, let alone work on them; once or twice, when Rey scooted near one of them, other Resistance members had jumped out of nowhere and shooed her off. She'd given up after the second attempt, seeing as it looked like they could just materialize at a moment's notice. Like everyone was just sitting around waiting for her to approach. "Fine," she said, as she watched Poe play his first card.

Finn nudged her shoulder with a grin. "Kick his ass?"

"You know it," she replied, and smiled good-naturedly at her opponent across the table.

"I don't like it when you two gang up on me," Poe mused with a frown. "It's not nice."

"Finn!" called one of the mechanics from behind a freight box. "I need that part!"

"Coming," he yelled, and hurried over.

"You're going down this time," Poe taunted, but Rey only grinned as she looked down at her hand.

Needless to say, he lost every hand, and when he finally got fed up with losing - no matter how much he tried to be cocky about it - he climbed into the cockpit of his fighter and took off, possibly to shoot up some of the surrounding rubble as a means of blowing off steam. Finn had a good laugh about it as he watched his friend buckle himself into his seat, grumpy and grumbling.

After that, Rey joined Rose at their impromptu mess table, but awkwardness quickly descended between them. She looked down into her mug, unsure of what to say. Things hadn't exactly been good between them, not since Rose had walked in on her, well, panting and sweating on the floor. Though 'Jedi-this' or 'Jedi-that' often worked as an excuse for a lot of things, seeing as an ancient Order outsiders knew very little about just sounded mysterious and important, Rey was pretty sure Rose was unconvinced with her lie, so she'd taken to avoiding her a lot, recently. Honestly, Rey couldn't blame her; it was probably a very weird, very strange scene for someone to walk in on, and even worse to think that your friend was lying about it.

She tried to think of something to say to break the silence, but there wasn't a whole lot that could remedy things. And to be fair, she didn't know very much about Rose; they'd been hanging around each other for the past weeks, but because Rose worked on the ships and with Finn most of the time, and Rey had to deal with her Jedi training - _and other things_ \- they hadn't spent a lot of time together. They'd been on friendly terms, sure - everyone fighting for a rebel cause felt some kind of common thread that tied each member together. But on a deeper, more personal level? Rey was kind of lost. She liked Rose. She wanted to call her a friend. It didn't seem like they were on those terms, though.

"So I hear," Rose cleared her throat and stopped to work her mouth around her bite of food. "I hear your training is going well."

If Rey were the type of person to blush, she might have - Rose's statement, although flippant in nature, sounded more like an accusation and innuendo than some innocent attempt to break the ice.

She coughed a moment and took a drink to clear her own throat. "Yeah, it's going well."

"That's great. Finn tells me - "

"Everyone, quick! To the war room. We've made contact with Republic forces."

Everyone assembled in the area promptly dropped their things and rushed for the room. Leia was already there with C-3PO, R2-D2, and BB-8 by her side, as she stared up into the broadcasting image on the holo-display.

"Senator Organa," said the figure. "It's good to see you alive."

"And you, Senator. What news do you have? What remains of the Republic?"

"The remaining Republic Senators and their homeworlds have been banding together these past weeks, and we've been trying to figure out a way to contact you. I see you were on the run, there, for a while."

"It was touch and go," Leia said with a grin. "But we survived."

"Well, as you know, the Chancellor and several of our allies in the Senate perished on Hosnian Prime. Some of the more even keeled Senators, who wanted to stay out of confrontations, have shrunk back to their homeworlds with their tails between their legs. Worse," he said with a rising urgency, "most of the Centrist Senators have been in talks with the First Order. Eurodo Ro, it seems, was not the only Senator working behind the Republic's back," he said grimly and frowned.

Leia tightened her jaw - and her fist. "So? We have names?"

"Giller, Mortan, Apolin, Bevicard, Fatil, Madmund, Arbo - they were all spotted taking private ships to the First Order flagship, the _Finalizer_."

Rey froze. So, Kylo Ren had been meeting with Senators? _Right_ , she thought, giving herself a mental kick for forgetting. _He mentioned it when we were_ \- No, do not end that thought.

"And of course, Leia, your long time friend - Carise Sindian," the man added at the end.

Leia huffed, and banged her fist down on the edge of the table. "That snake? Why am I not surprised," she grumbled through the corner of her mouth. "That woman never could make good decisions for anyone other than herself. She probably sold out Arkanis a long time ago, to be in Snoke's pocket."

"Yes, it appears that may be the case. Now, she is trying to strengthen her relationship with the new Supreme Leader. Reports are that the Centrists are going to push forward a vote for First Senator. They're claiming a strong, leader figure is needed for the Republic, especially after the loss of the dear Chancellor."

"Pah!" Leia said, waving her hand in agitation. "They all thought Villecham was a fool. Which," she said with a reluctant shrug of her shoulders, "he was. All that postulating on the Senate floor about how the First Order wasn't a concern. Then he dies to their death machine."

"He certainly was blinded to what was going on. All the same, remaining Populists want to rally behind you and the Resistance, Leia. Many homeworlds are beginning to recruit for the cause. Vicly has already begun armament efforts, and Anib Ney is supplying the funds. And there are some ships remaining that you should look over. I'll transfer the data to your Lieutenant. Take your pick for a new flagship."

Leia broke into a smile, a real, genuine smile. "That's some good news. I've got some X-Wings that need a home."

"You'll have it," the man said with a smile. "Soon. We should set up a rendezvous route to the Outer Rim, somewhere."

"Actually, we're already bunkered down in the Outer Rim. I'll send encrypted coordinates shortly."

"Excellent. Our forces won't be able to join together all at once - that'll risk too much suspicion. We can't draw attention to ourselves or you. The Senate and Republic are in disarray, so the First Order hasn't begun hunting down remaining Senators who aren't completely onboard with their cause just yet. I wouldn't want to give them a reason to start."

She nodded. "Noted."

"We'll have to trickle in little by little on a timed schedule, which I'll arrange with the others. Stay put and expect us."

"We'll stay as long as we can," she said. "If we have to pack up and leave, we'll get a message to you and go from there."

"Good. I'll contact you again once the schedule has been established and send times and dates. First priority will be to get that flagship to you, so don't delay on picking one out."

The General smiled. "I'm looking forward to it."

The two nodded to each other in farewell and the transmission ended.

Poe was pumped up. "This is exactly what I was hoping for! Once we get that flagship, we'll be back in space and ready to start taking the fight to the First Order."

"Rey," Leia called behind her.

She turned and regarded the older woman. "General?"

"Come with me a moment," she said, and without delay began retreating to the rooms they'd set up for her private quarters. Poe and her exchanged a quick look, all raised eyebrows, before she hurried to catch up.

It was a short walk, but felt long because of the silence. Once they were inside her room, and the door was shut, Leia sat down with a sigh and got straight to the point. "If war breaks out anew, Rey, I'm going to need you to help me lead our forces."

Rey stood by the door, frozen. Speechless. _Me? Lead forces?_ Suddenly the lightsaber clipped to her side felt enormously heavy with responsibility and obligation.

The woman was nodding, "I know what you're thinking - me? 'Why me? I can't do that.' But you can, Rey, and I'm going to need you out there on that field. I won't give you any official titles - your current one is title enough," she muttered, but grinned. "But you must know what your presence out there will mean to people. And it may sound daunting, but leadership from a figure like you will be followed, listened to. You'll inspire our soldiers."

Still stuck to the door like a shy teenager, Rey remained silent. She understood what Leia was asking of her - and honestly, she'd fully intended to do the fighting part, out on the battlefield - and everything about it made sense, but she didn't know if she was ready for something like that. Not when she was still very much the novice, caught in the middle of her Jedi training, having only just learned how to make a lightsaber! To suddenly become a leader? Giving orders? Commanding soldiers? That wasn't something she had experience with, and she didn't think she'd be very good at it. Fighting, yes - she enjoyed battle. But leading?

"I want you to promise me, Rey, that you won't run off." Suddenly, the General's voice sounded faraway and lonely.

She heard the unspoken part of that sentence - _like my brother, Luke_. Considering the last Jedi she'd put her faith in had disappeared for nigh on a decade, it made sense Leia was seeking reassurances from the new one. Still, she didn't know if that was something she could promise.

"I'll… I'll think about it. Really. Just give me some time. You know I don't have any experience with leading or telling people what to do. Not like you," and she gestured at the woman herself.

"It doesn't mean you won't be good at it." The woman smiled briefly, then acquiesced the point. "Think about it and get back to me."

The Jedi swallowed nervously. "I will."

When she returned to the common ranks, Poe and Finn were kicked back with a card game of their own, and two glasses filled with amber liquid. She smirked and sat down at the table to spectate.

"Hey, go grab yourself a glass," Poe said while he shuffled; he jerked his head in the direction of their makeshift kitchen area.

"All right. Be right back," and she left again.

"Where did they put - " she mumbled to herself. But the sound vacuum cut her off, and froze her in her tracks. The connection rarely happened when she was so close to people; why did it have to be then? What if someone walked in and caught her? She had already had so many close calls. _Not to mention Luke actually_ did _catch you_ , she fretted.

"I want you to know," he began without preamble, "that I didn't want to leave things like that."

She straightened up and turned to face him. Somehow, she felt their expressions were reversed. While her own felt hard, and impassable, his looked oddly expressive and open. Concerned.

"I never intended to put you in a position like that."

That was true, of course, because he had told her he couldn't, and she'd persisted. It was her fault she'd ended up like that; she didn't blame him. All of her issues lay in the sultry voice that had so casually, and intimately spoken to him over his comm.

"You're jealous," he said lowly, reading her as adeptly as ever.

She huffed a little, irritated. Why did he have to be so perceptive? "I'm not jealous. And this conversation is going to have to wait," she said in a hushed tone. "I'm not exactly alone."

As was his habit, he ignored her and pushed onwards, anyway. "You should know Sindian is a coward, and I don't care about her. Not like - " then he cut himself off.

They stood looking at each other and an understanding of pain passed between them; pain at being separated. Pain at leading lives that were incongruous and constantly at odds. Pain for caring, but not being allowed to care if they truly wanted to accomplish their goals. Always pitted against each other, like two fighters in a ring that were secretly lovers, going round and round in dizzying circles that left them both disoriented and hazy. Unable to tell up from down. Or right from wrong. Sometimes, it seemed like they only knew one thing, anymore - each other. The ethereal moments they were bridged between space and time - and warring politics and warring sides - that everything suddenly aligned itself and became whole, and all the haze and dizziness melted away like a morning fog on the ocean. These brief moments, shared through the Force, when it was okay to admit truths to themselves that they weren't allowed the luxury to believe in anywhere else.

If she could just hold him then - maybe, just maybe - things would be all right. So she did. She threw whatever petty emotions she had been feeling over their last encounter away and went to him, and put her arms around him. Totally and completely, and held on. She pressed her cheek into the space just between his neck and shoulder, and inhaled. Around her back and waist, she felt the weight of his arms - protective and strong and dear.

This was exactly what he needed. To just hold, and be held, and for a moment let his fears and anxieties go to the deepest corner of his mind and stay there; just a moment's reprieve. And to see she was safe. He'd long for their moments together even more, now; he'd tear himself up inside waiting for them, to get confirmation she was all right.

 _I can't protect her_ , he agonized, as his arms tightened around her and his chin rested in her soft, brown hair.

As he'd emerged from his rooms after his time with Rey, Sindian had been waiting with the kind of smile that could slice someone's heart open, all devilishly sharp and knowing.

Before he could do or say anything, she had her palm pressed to his chest and was whispering, "So, our Supreme Leader has a paramour."


	10. Chapter Ten

Star Wars: Division

I wanted to keep to Thursdays, but here I am, again, posting on Friday. It's the final week of my semester, so classes got busy and it delayed my writing time. Sorry everyone. I haven't done this in a while, so I think it's about time: time to thank the new followers! The last time I thanked followers was in the Chapter Six header, and the story has had 16 new followers since then! Thanks guys - so much. It really means a lot to me to see my story succeeding.

Eileend704, Roacharoo, RedThunder85, StarWarsFan1011, Emilyla12, LEGOman112, Butteredeggs, cila5, niuavin, Joyca, potterfan32, SuperJDC, Tink508, Ldb0303, meahela87, and kmreece.

Thank you thank you thank you.

Chapter Ten

There was a very brief moment in which, as he freshened up and got decked out in his full regalia, helmet and all, that he was reminded of his parents, and how their careers had always put them at odds. Things would always come between them - shipments, Senate meetings, trade and commerce plans, public relations. He'd seen it happen to them all the time when he was younger, the few moments they had together interrupted by business, constantly. Dividing them into their own respective worlds. It was a similar feeling for him and Rey; as soon as they had their moments together, they were over, gone, just minutes of time in the long stretch of their days. The Force may be able to connect them across the distance between them, but it couldn't isolate them; it couldn't create a new world for them to hide in. Business always came looking for the Supreme Leader and The Last Jedi.

As soon as he stepped out of his private quarters, Sindian pounced.

Before he could do or say anything, she had her palm pressed to his chest and was whispering, "So, our Supreme Leader has a paramour."

"Do I need to threaten you again about that hand," he all but hissed through his mask, which had a very menacing effect.

Sindian recoiled, and let the hand fall from his person, but the glint in her eye was still very much alive. She had a bone, and like any rabid dog she wasn't going to simply let it go. "Who's the lucky lady," she said coyly, giving her eyebrow a quirk in curiosity. Honestly, it had been her ambition to somehow become his paramour, in order to gain that upper hand, but he had barely shown any interest in her. In anyone. Now, it was clear as to _why_ he'd shown no interest - he already had someone. There were two options: find out who it was and use them against him, or find out who it was and eliminate them so she could assume their place. Either way, step one was going to be getting her identity, and Sindian had enough money to hire a lot of spies.

"Don't be shy," she said in a hushed voice as they began the trek to the feast. "We're alone, no one's around. You can whisper your little secret."

Kylo Ren was stiff and silent next to her. As a Senator, and at one time as a Lady, she had a lot of experience with people. It had become secondhand nature to scrutinize them and pick up on their weaknesses of character, to intuit a man with too much pride that she could flatter and have eating out of the palm of her hand. Much of her life had been spent reading people and using them to further her own goals - that was politics. But Kylo Ren was indeed a mystery man, and not just because of the atrocious helmet he wore - god, she hated that thing. No, he was adept at keeping his emotions and thoughts close to the vest, even though that wasn't what rumors had always said about his temperament. From what she understood before meeting him, he was reckless and impulsive, prone to fits of rage and destruction. It scared most people. It had intrigued her. Men with passionate anger issues were malleable, easy to twist and mold into the shape she desired. And at first, it had almost convinced her she'd find her way into his good graces, and then have a direct line to power. It was always fortuitous to be the lover of a king.

Someone, however, had beat her to it. Was this woman the reason for his change in behavior, too? Sometimes that happened with men. Give them a woman and it cooled down their heads, steadied them. If that was the case? She'd definitely want this woman eliminated. It would make Kylo Ren wild, again, even more so when facing her death. And then? Weak and filled with rage, her window of opportunity would open once more.

The banquet was being held in a large, expansive room that, when empty, was austere and grey, but filled with canapes and Senators and other figures in power, suddenly became alive with colorful suits and dresses and the sound of their chatter. Amongst a group of people such as this, with finery and luxury dripping from their fingertips and the hems of their expensive clothing, a tall, black figure like Kylo Ren stood out like a blot of ink on a bouquet of spring flowers. People made way whichever direction he stepped in, parting and scurrying like mice. Next to him, Sindian looked like his evil queen, clad in an array of sparkling jewels and dark plum satin. Perhaps he wasn't aware of how it made her look, but she was - she had intended it that way. Arriving with the Supreme Leader made them look close. Walking next to him as he arrived and made his rounds from group to group made her look like his partner. And she knew the impression wasn't lost on the rest of the Senators when she saw their awestruck expressions. She smirked a very tilted, sly smirk.

The malingering presence of Sindian was an annoyance he couldn't get rid of. As expected from a duplicitous, power-hungry leech like her, she was doing everything in her power to make it look like they had a close working relationship in order to intimidate her fellow Senators. He may not have given a nomination for First Senator, but if she made it look like he had a preference for her, the Senators would pick up on it and fear nominating someone the Supreme Leader disapproved of. That's why politics were such a headache - everything was a game, a game of appearances, niceties, subterfuge, lies, backstabbing. This was exactly the kind of situation he often had found his mother in, returning to their apartments on Hosnian Prime after a day of navigating the muck of the Senate, exhausted and rubbing the flesh between her eyes, ready to sip wine and forget all about protocol and laws.

The difference between him and his mother was she had a taste for it, even though it was a mess, even though it took every part of her, she returned to the Senate over and over because it was where she felt she did the most good; she was in her element. But it had never been for him. It never would be. There was too much wasted time in the Senate because the games that had to be played. Why bother to play games when he could leave that to his assembled subordinates who were all so eager to please him? The sycophants and the greedy, all milling about him for attention and praise. They could play the games. And he could play them.

Sindian wasn't going to get what she was after. She needed to be undermined. Working with him for a few weeks had given her the misguided impression he favored her, or else that she had gained some sort of status amongst the First Order entourage. Of course, that was wrong. He'd only worked with her because Snoke had already put plans in motion, and he wanted to get things sorted out. That, and the other Senators were cowards and had gone into hiding after the events of the _Supremacy_ , unsure of where it left the Republic _and_ the First Order. They'd retreated to their holes to wait and see which way the wind blew. Sindian was too ambitious for something like that, though it didn't make her brave. She'd seen the power vacuum and had jumped eagerly at the chance to fill it and push herself up the ladder. Now, she was feeling too full of herself over the whole situation; she was doing everything in her power, suddenly, to force herself at him, to force closeness between them that didn't exist. It was irritating. So, as he had learned from his own Master, it was time to knock her down.

He would announce his nomination for First Senator at the end of the night. And it wouldn't be her.

No amount of sweet talking on her part would be able to save the situation, then. He'd make sure she didn't get First Senator, if only as a means to humiliate her and put her in her place.

What followed were two painful hours of socialization that he couldn't care less about, but he had to maintain appearances in order to keep the Senate in hand. Unfortunately, becoming Supreme Leader had not given him a complete pass to rule and change the Galaxy as he saw fit, even with control of the Force. People had to be appeased, people had to enforce the law for him, people had to have meetings about the law and changes to the law; the Galaxy was too large for one person to conquer. Even Emperor Palpatine had his slew of underlings, the most fierce of which had been his own grandfather. And Darth Vader had had the 501st - his loyal battalion of stormtroopers that became his right-hand and were feared by much of the population. It was a machine, there were layers to operations starting from the very top all the way down to the very bottom. His job was to make sure the layers worked in tandem to his will, and to do that he had to be somewhat social; he had to make appearances at banquets like these to appease the social niceties the Senators and their government officials expected to be observed.

He saw her everywhere. In every conversation he found himself roped into, he'd imagine her responses - her straightforward, energetic nature that would unseat every last one of the pompous fools aboard his ship. She'd find it all absurd - she wasn't patient when it came to these kinds of things, either. She was a fighter. A doer. And he would know. How different she was than this assembly - smarter, stronger, braver. Like him, she wanted change. These people? All they wanted was money and power.

What he wouldn't give to leave and return to his rooms for the chance to see her.

The way things had been left between them - what a nightmare. Why had it looked like she'd been able to hear Sindian? Usually they weren't able to cross over _that_ completely; they saw each other, heard each other, and yes, they could touch, but their surroundings and everything else existing on their side of the Galaxy didn't pass through their connection. _The lightsaber did_ , he thought suddenly. He'd sank into his thoughts as the feast began and everyone took their seats. As the rest of room enjoyed their food and mixed the clanging of silverware with the hum of their voices and the sickeningly forced barks of their laughter, he sat at the head of the table and thought. His food sat before him untouched. He stared out across the long stretch of the table with his helmet hiding his face and his thoughts, and sat like a dark tyrant observing the room. In a way he was. But he was mostly absorbed in his memories of her.

The lightsaber had been able to bridge the distance when she held it. Because she had held it while he held it, it had somehow been able to exist in two places at once. When Sindian's voice had rang out over the intercom they had been touching - _bare-skin-on-skin_ touching. She must've heard. The hollow sound of her voice had to mean she'd heard. And then, of course, without the chance to set things straight, their connection was closed and she was gone, and he had been left sitting on the side of the bed feeling the weight of her hollow voice in the back of his mind.

If she got the wrong idea it had the potential to set their progress back to zero. And he felt like he was just starting to get somewhere. This was a terrible time to have Rey thinking he was seeing someone else.

 _Seeing someone else? Am I even seeing her_ , he mused darkly.

When was the last time he had been able to enjoy such frivolous thoughts? It felt strange to be thinking about a relationship and romance amidst the turmoil of the Galaxy - amidst the fighting, the scheming, the bloodshed, and the secrets. And there he was, Supreme Leader, worrying over his - his what? Girlfriend? The sound of it was ridiculous.

"Not hungry, Supreme Leader," chirped Sindian to his left, who was seated one down from him. It was a transparent joke; he couldn't eat with his helmet on.

"Not particularly, Senator. There's much on my mind," he responded ironically.

"Oh," said Senator Fatil, seated next to Sindian's assistant. "What sort of things are on your mind, Supreme Leader? Perhaps those rearmament plans we were discussing earlier?"

"Actually, Senator," he said, and sat up straighter in his chair, "I've been reconsidering my stance on the nomination for First Senator. Perhaps I should put forth a candidate that I think will work well with my plans for the First Order and the Galaxy."

There was a ripple of discomfort down the length of the table as the assembled Senators let those words sink in. Sindian was the only one who didn't look put out, thinking it was obvious she would be the nomination. Of course, after her entrance to the banquet with the Supreme Leader himself, the rest of the Senators expected the same. Their eyes shifted to her - she was positively glowing. Senators and their delegation members alike looked at her from the corner of their eyes, over the tops of their wine glasses, or otherwise from underneath their brows while they kept their hands busy cutting up the food on their plates.

"A-and, who were you thinking of nominating, then, Supreme Leader Ren," continued Senator Fatil.

It was enjoyable to watch them squirm. He'd leave them to their discomfort and resentment for the remainder of the meal. "I'll inform everyone of my decision at the end of the banquet."

"Of course."

Sindian smirked.

The rest of the Senators deflated; they believed their chances were over.

After that, the room had a subdued feeling, a bit hushed, a bit awkward. Sindian floated on cloud nine while the other Senators ate their meals in bitterness. He began to see the value in choosing First Senator; the Senator chosen would have to answer directly to him, and it showed him exercising his power over the Senate, so that everyone understood he was truly the one in control. Of course, now there was the added bonus of putting Sindian in her place. And the Senator he had in mind was the least sleazy of the assembly - Senator Arbo was older than some of the others, which meant he didn't have the same youthful ambitions or lusts for money and status. He advocated for war and all war-like politics, which would be useful considering full scale war was imminent once more, with the remaining Republic officials seeking to join with Leia Organa. It was only a matter of time. If he had a General-minded Senator to lead the rest of them, it might actually do him some good. Dare he say - make things easier on him?

Even better, Arbo hadn't become a Centrist purely to align Coruscant with Snoke. He became a Centrist because it genuinely mirrored his view of how the government should operate. Actually, there had been a time years ago when Arbo had assigned a guard to his mother as she traveled to Bastatha during the Amaxine warrior crisis. He'd helped Coruscant during the event, as well as helped his mother, and hadn't shown himself to be a snake in the grass. He was a genuine person, it's only his politics didn't agree with Populist ideals. But he was, perhaps, the most stable of the Senators, as well as the most honorable. Working with him and Coruscant should certainly make things easier for Kylo Ren.

The dessert plates were cleared away by droids, and glasses were filled one last time with wine. The feast had reached its end, and all eyes expectantly swept to him.

He stood.

"Senators," he began, "this has been an opportunity to reorganize the Senate and Galaxy after wartime destruction led to the unexpected death of Supreme Leader Snoke. I believe the First Order will be able to continue towards its goal of bringing order and peace to the Galaxy that the Republic was unable to realize. A toast," he said, raising his glass, "to the First Order."

"To the First Order," the assembly rang out in unison, and then everyone except the Supreme Leader took a drink.

"And now," Kylo Ren continued, placing his glass back down, "I'd like to announce my nomination for First Senator. I nominate," at those words, everyone leaned forward in their seats, "Senator Arbo of Coruscant for the position. It's my opinion his military politics are perfectly in line with the First Order's aims, and his long record in the Senate has given him ample experience in leading from the Senate floor."

Again, a hush passed down the length of the table, but it was different than before. This was a hush of surprise; none of them liked Sindian, and all of them were - in at least some way - pleased to see her passed over for the position. Having to answer to Sindian would've been a nightmare. Arbo was certainly more even-tempered, logical, and fair - everyone knew that. He'd be open to negotiations, he wouldn't accept bribes, and everything he did he tried to view through an objective lens. A much easier First Senator to handle. The tension in the room eased, and many of them even smiled and said a quick toast to the new nominee.

Sindian seethed in her chair. Kylo Ren could positively feel the hatred emanating from her place at the table; her assistant looked uncomfortable, with his head hung like a wounded dog. Kylo Ren understood that disposition. When they got behind closed doors, Sindian would take out her rage on him. He was already anticipating it.

She couldn't meet his gaze, though he let his eyes bore into her. Yes, it was a power move, and yes, he expected her to fight back somehow, but the moment certainly felt good enough. Watching her sit with her eyes cast down in embarrassment made the evening.

 **Then:**

"I fully intended to be nominated, but he chose Arbo in front of the entire assembly," she stormed in an angry whisper to her confidant.

Hux smirked despite the situation. "It seems Ren has truly assumed the role he killed to acquire. He's more devious than I expected."

"Killed to acquire," Sindian repeated back, momentarily shocked. "What do you mean?"

Hux drew closer. They were standing in a far removed section of the hallway that led from the room used for the banquet, holding a secret meeting of sorts. "I mean," he said in a low whisper, "that I suspect Ren is the one who killed Supreme Leader Snoke. He claims it was the Jedi girl, but I was _there_ , I saw the aftermath of the throne room. It was completely destroyed and all the Praetorian Guard were dead. She couldn't have done all that alone. It's not possible she fought the Guard, Ren, and Snoke, and succeeded in killing all of them except Ren."

"Yes," she said nodding, "convenient everyone was dead except him. So - " she searched for the right words, licking her lips. "So, you think he doesn't mean to lead the First Order at all? Like a Resistance spy?"

Hux snorted. "No, he hates the Resistance, that I have no doubt of. I've seen him slaughter entire villages." He paused and his jaw worked subtly from side-to-side. He cast his thoughts on Batuu and how _that_ mission had gone awry because of the Jedi - or so Ren had claimed. It was difficult for the General to believe one novice Jedi was disrupting the entire First Order operation all on her own. Perhaps he was young himself, but he had enough experience in war to know that it took one hell of an individual to fight an entire battalion of soldiers, and perhaps she could've done that, but that _and_ fight a Dark Force user like Kylo Ren? _She's beaten him before_ , he thought quickly, recalling the events of Starkiller and the scar that ran down the right side of Ren's face. It seemed like she was always coming up victorious against Kylo Ren - why?

"I think," he began, looking quickly down both ends of the hallway to make sure no one was approaching. "I think it's the Jedi."

Sindian's brows furrowed. "The Jedi? Do you mean you think she's strong enough to - "

He held up his hand. "I think he hates the Resistance," he continued, "but I don't think he hates the Jedi. She has been able to repeatedly defeat him. I wonder if it's because he has developed - " again he paused in search of the correct word, " _feelings_ ," he emphasized heavily, "towards her. It's the only explanation. How else would she have killed Snoke and his Guards, but not Ren? And Ren not to have killed her?"

Sindian all but gasped at the revelation. "You think they're working together?"

"I think she is his weakness," he clarified. "I don't know how they'd be working together. I've certainly never caught any correspondences between the two."

Suddenly, a thought came to her. "Wait. I heard the voice of a woman in Kylo's private rooms earlier, before the feast. Do you think it could've been her?"

Hux laughed. "Sindian, please. How could she have snuck aboard the _Finalizer_ without anyone noticing? How ridiculous."

She deflated a bit, but acquiesced the point. "I suppose," she mumbled, though she couldn't shake the thought. If Hux truly believed this woman was Kylo's weakness, then how could he be shacked up in private with someone else?

"All the same," Hux said, "this weakness needs to be exposed. We may know he has no leanings towards the Resistance, but if we can reveal his sympathies for the Jedi, then everyone will assume he must have sympathies for the Resistance, too. Naturally. Then we can reveal he killed Snoke and yes, perhaps as you suggested, make him look like a Resistance spy."

Her chilling grin pulled at the corners of her lusciously lipsticked mouth. "The perfect revenge. And once he is removed?"

Hux's grin mirrored hers in a disturbingly accurate portrayal of their partnership - clinical and sharp. "Once he is removed I'll bid to become Supreme Leader and you, dear Sindian, will not only become First Senator, but we'll work towards reinstating your family title and status. I'm sure we'll be able to bully the Arkanis officials into some kind of agreement."

"I have full faith in you, General."

Down at the end of the hallway dull footsteps alerted the two to an oncoming presence. Kylo Ren came into view and stopped; he turned his head to appraise them, standing as they were so closely they could've been mistaken for lovers. But he knew scheming when he saw it. Without a word, he continued down the hall towards his rooms. General Hux, his greatest adversary, plotting with the likes of Sindian, who he'd just spurned of the chance at First Senator? This was the sort of pettiness that plagued the Republic, and it made it impossible to get any work done. Now, he had to expect an attack.

The two watched their Supreme Leader go, swallowing with a touch of nervousness. But it wouldn't do Kylo Ren any good to know they were plotting - _what_ they were plotting was the big point. And how would he be able to unravel that mystery?

The two's eyes met, their smirks matched perfectly like twins. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren's days were numbered.

"And the Jedi," Sindian whispered conspiratorially. "We should eliminate her as well."

"Yes," Hux ruminated. "I wondered if she shares the same sentiments as Ren. If, indeed, the two are working together, it may not be enough to simply dispose of him. If the Resistance is truly to crumble, and the First Order is going to rule, she'll need to be gotten rid of. Having her hang around will cause too much trouble."

"Give me all the information you have on her, and I'll hire spies to track down her location."

"I'll send over a datapad pre-loaded with all the information I have."

"Perfect. I'll be expecting it, then."

Back in his rooms, Kylo Ren released the latch on his helmet and all but slammed it down on the desk. If he could just go murder Sindian and Hux in their beds and be done with the whole thing; how satisfying and simple that would be. Instead, he'd need to persist in his assertions that Hux was the weak link in First Order command, and find other ranking officers who held a grudge against him. If he could band them together against Hux, he could get rid of the General and establish those officials in roles with more clout, ensuring their loyalty and his control over them. After that, Sindian would be easy to destroy. He'd learned from his mother the woman's greatest weakness. If Organa could do it, certainly Kylo Ren could.

Still, he worried for Rey. It hadn't been much, but he'd felt their intentions, and while they were exactly what he'd expected, he had sensed something deeper - something buried and guarded - that made him worry for her. Did they suspect anything? Would they attempt something? An assassination, perhaps? Surely, Sindian had funds enough to hire the best bounty hunters and assassins in the Galaxy. They would devote all their time and resources to hunting her.

He couldn't protect her, not so far away, not so out of his reach. And not when he didn't even know where she was.

It was a relief when he saw her, bent over looking for something. She straightened and turned to face him with a stubborn expression.

 _I can't protect her_ , he agonized as he drew her close to his chest and squeezed her.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Star Wars: Division

Roacharoo: She does make a great villain, doesn't she? I thought the same thing about her being a good match for Hux, and being a Senator and allied with the First Order it just made sense they'd bump into each other and start acting dastardly together. Haha.

Jezie: That's such a flattering comment. I don't really know what to say. But I can say your few words alone have made writing this story worth it. Thank you.

This will be a shorter chapter than the last few I've been doing, but I hope the intensity of it makes up for length.

Chapter Eleven

Leia Organa stared at the single droplet of blood slowly making its way down the visor of Kylo Ren's obsidian helmet. It looked like a black pearl, that droplet of blood, something better suited to the neckline of a wealthy Queen than on the helmet of a tyrant. Then again, tyrants always managed to have blood on them, metaphorically or otherwise; that was the price for their kind of iron-fisted leadership. But she did wonder, faintly - somewhere in the back of her mind that needed to stay detached from the situation so as to maintain her sanity - where that drop of blood could've come from. Lightsabers and blaster fire cauterized wounds, so blood was never spilt.

" _General_ ," came the distorted cadence of his voice through that monstrosity of a helmet. Maybe she was being too weak, and too motherly, but hearing her son's voice twisted up by mechanical parts set her on edge. He'd always had such a deep voice, a calming voice; she remembered how easily he could console her after a terrible day at the Senate. And still - she'd sent him away.

"Kylo Ren," she replied stiffly. She didn't need to see his eyes to know they stared directly back at her from the holo-display that had been erected as soon as they'd landed on Vrogas Vas some days ago. Already, two smaller groups of the remaining Republic forces had found their way to the Resistance, having circumnavigated their way around the more common space routes, and risked going through very dodgy smuggler territory to do it. The risk was worth it if it meant strengthening the Resistance, and giving hope to the future of the Republic. It was worth it if it meant escaping the eyes of the First Order. But the _Redeemer_ \- it appeared the _Redeemer_ had not been so fortunate.

She didn't want to look. She already knew the fate of the crew of the _Redeemer_ \- it wasn't necessary to look. But for the sake of their bravery, for the sake of their strength, she must. Kylo Ren was broadcasting from the bridge - behind him, at the entrance to the bridge, stood a short line of stormtroopers, blasters in hand as they stood at attention. The black outline of Kylo Ren stood out against the bright white background of their armor. There was some smoking in the room - some sparks of electricity from wiring that had been damaged in the skirmish, zapping and buzzing noises firing from different control boards and communication hubs. Overall, though, it didn't look like much damage had been done. It didn't suggest there had been a slaughter.

The dead bodies suggested that all on their own.

Slumped in their seats, still desperate to fly the _Redeemer_ to its destination, the pilot and co-pilot had been run through by a lightsaber; Leia knew a lightsaber wound when she saw it. A perfectly circular hole through each of their chests that was seared around the edges by the white-hot fire of the lightsaber's blade. A Jedi never would've killed so mercilessly. It was their creed to only kill when absolutely necessary, and they never killed those who were unarmed - it was seen as crude and barbaric. It was the Dark Side. Kylo Ren had had no qualms about finishing them off where they sat; his only honorable deed had been to turn them around in their chairs so they could face their killer.

And the rest of the bridge? It was littered with the remaining crew members operating the bridge, including her old friend Senator Anib Ney, another Populist who she'd worked with tirelessly in the days of the First Order's rise in order to bring it to the Senate's attention - to the attention of the entire Republic - so its rise could be stopped in its tracks. But so many had refused to believe it because they didn't want to imagine the Galaxy under another Empire-like ruling body. The Empire had ravaged the Galaxy, spreading terror like a farmer spreads seed. Some planets hadn't yet fully recovered from the rule of Emperor Palpatine, and some, such as Vrogas Vas and Ilum, would never be the same. To think that there was another political force such as the Empire that sought to rise up and bring that terror back to the Galaxy frightened people to the point of blissful ignorance. It was the naive hope that if they didn't acknowledge it, it would simply go away. Except now, the First Order couldn't be ignored.

"It seems I've come across one of your ships," Kylo Ren continued, taunting her.

"It seems so," she replied in the same stiff, clipped tone. Did he want to see her shaken? Did he want to see her weak? She would never lose her composure in front of her troops; behind her, every member of the Resistance was assembled, staring at the array of dead bodies with their perfectly round wounds with the stoicism of people who did not want to believe what their eyes saw. They were stony faced. Silent. In the far corner, out of view of the holo-display, Rey stood with her arms folded and her jaw set, with waves of fury rolling off her like heat rolling across the sands of Jakku. Angry. Fierce. Leia felt her wrathful ambitions through turbulent cascades in the Force.

She'd always known some of the Centrist Senators had been dealing under the table with the First Order to make alliances and cut deals. But for how long? How long had she been laboring to save the Republic when the foundation was already rotting away? "How long have the Centrists been working with the First Order," she said in a tight whisper.

He sneered. "Long enough that your precious Republic didn't stand a chance."

She swallowed - it was as she'd suspected. "Fear and order are not the same thing."

He clasped his hands behind his back. "I disagree. I think the first one naturally facilitates the other. Look at the civil obedience the Empire achieved in its glory days with Darth Vader at the helm of policing its people. But you know all about that, Leia Organa."

Yes, unfortunately, hers was a legacy that would plague her until her death. Her father had been one of the most notorious Sith to ever darken the skies of their Galaxy. In his footsteps, the son she had wounded and pushed away was trying to do the same. And he was succeeding. Where her father had failed in his ambitions, his grandson was hell bent on making them reality.

Ben Solo may have never had a taste for law and politics as she had - _still had_ \- but he had been around her in her discussions with fellow Senators about the law, about ethics, about political strategy, and he had been a smart boy. That smart boy had grown to become a cunning man. There was no doubt that while he disliked the game of government and Senators, it was becoming apparent that he was exceedingly good at it.

"The Republic was poisoned. Don't you remember what happened with Ransolm? How he revealed your identity so that you'd lose the nomination for First Senate? And even then, he was manipulated by Sindian." Kylo Ren stepped closer to the screen. "The Senate floor is nothing but a game board to you and your colleagues. Each of you own and control your own pieces, and you move these pieces across the game board for money, resources, for alliances and power. You think ruling through centralism is evil, but you don't mind making deals and bargains with other Senators if it gets you what you want under the lackadaisical watch of the Republic."

"Ransolm was tricked by that viper, Sindian, and you know that," she said with a subtle hint of venom. She'd forgiven Ransolm, but she would never forgive _her_. "And I have never," she banged the table with the palm of her hand in a show of passion, "made deals or bargains in the sole interest of my planet. You know that, too."

"Do I?" His voice was as shadowed as darkness. "If you think I can't discover the secrets of your past, Leia Organa, you are mistaken."

She swallowed. This man was not her son. This man was some unrecognizable demon that was possessing her son. Is this who they called Kylo Ren? Facing him before, she had always felt Ben Solo through the Force - there were always pieces she knew to be him, still unchanged from his teenage years. But this? Not a single part was decipherable. This was Kylo Ren in his entirety, unfettered by love for his mother, or nostalgia for his past.

Even so, their connection in the Force ran deep. "You're afraid," he said minaciously. He could sense her growing fear as her heart rate sped up and pounded in her chest.

Yes, she was very much afraid. She had said to Rey, _"I hope, at the end of this, there's still something left of him."_ Now that hope was flickering dangerously like a flame caught fighting against the chill of a winter's wind, at risk of being extinguished.

"I'll make this easy on you, General," he continued, without waiting for her response. "You know what I want."

Leia stood up straighter, raised her chin. "You won't have it," she said.

Kylo Ren began to nod, "I thought you might say that. Which is why," he gestured to someone off screen and then a young woman came into view. If not for the excessive sweat across her brow, and the trail of blood running from one of her nostrils, she would've been beautiful. Leia saw the strength in her gaze, and felt her heart spasm in pain; she knew the fate this courageous woman was about to suffer at the hands of her own son. "I have kept the navigation captain here with me." He took the woman by the back of the neck - hard - and pushed her close to the screen.

Every member of the Resistance saw the potent mixture of disquiet and gutsiness in her green-grey eyes. They all felt united in the face of her pain.

"Give me your coordinates and I won't have to take them from her mind."

Leia's lips thinned as she watched the young woman. She didn't struggle against Kylo Ren's grasp; she'd already accepted her fate. She already knew that, like the rest of the _Redeemer's_ crew - most of whom had been her friends - she was going to die, and there was nothing anyone in the Resistance could do to save her. "I can't do that," Leia heard herself say distantly; those words had sealed this woman's death.

He gave her just the barest couple of seconds to reconsider, and then his hand came up, close to her temple, and a scream ripped from her throat with the ferocity of every single cell and nerve in her brain being split in two by the Force as it penetrated her mind, unwanted. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes. Snot ran down her nose over the dried trail of blood.

"No," she shrieked. "No! I won't tell you!"

In the hangar on Vrogas Vas, there was the hush of solemnity of those attending a funeral. Several members of the Resistance had to leave the room; they were too green to witness the torture of one of their own. It made pits of anxiety in their stomachs that sickened them to their bones. They knew of the First Order's fear mongering, and they had heard stories of Kylo Ren's viciousness, but seeing it before their eyes - having to bear witness to one of their own being destroyed from the inside out - made all of it too real.

"No," she said, weaker. Pathetic. "No," she sobbed.

It never got easier. Leia Organa had lived through a lot of war, a lot of pain, and a lot of tragedy, and it never got easier. No matter how many dead bodies she'd seen, no matter how many screams of agony she'd heard, it was never palatable. But she was a leader, and the rest of the Resistance was counting on her to keep her wits about her as they crumbled to pieces in that hangar. Silently, she flashed a signal to Lieutenant Connix - a signal that meant their position was compromised, and they should broadcast to their allies that they would be relocating and in touch when they were safely positioned again. The blonde nodded her head ever so slightly, and made her way to the communications board.

It was difficult for Rey to stand there and watch. Not only had she been a victim of the kind of mental torture Kylo Ren could inflict upon his enemies, but she could see he wasn't doing it with the same precision or care he had used with her. While he had been gentle - if it could be called that - with her, seamlessly weaving his presence through her mind to find the information he wanted, with this woman he was violently maneuvering about, unconcerned with whatever damage he did to her brain. She had no doubt that, at the end of it, the woman would be better off dead. Once he finished with her nothing would be left. If he didn't kill her, she'd be an unresponsive vegetable for the rest of her life.

She wanted to stop him. She couldn't bear it. Her fingers itched to be curled around the hilt of her lightsaber, ready to do battle. Ready to save her. But she, like Leia, could do nothing. The impotent hero. The useless Jedi.

It was clear when the mental damage reached the point of no return; her mouth hung open, slack, and her screaming stopped. She felt nothing, anymore. No pain. Whatever light had once lived in her pretty eyes was now nothing but a dull reminder. She may be alive, but she was gone.

He made an indecipherable noise in the confines of his helmet. "Vrogas Vas. Interesting. I never would've guessed you'd return there. It holds a lot of bad memories for the Rebels."

Yes, yes it did. Leia Organa knew all about that.

With a sharp and sudden _crack_ he broke the woman's neck and she fell limply to the floor. "Captain, signal the bridge of the _Finalizer_ to set a course for Vrogas Vas. Tell them we'll be re-boarding shortly."

"Supreme Leader," replied the Captain, and then they sat down at the console and began messaging Kylo Ren's flagship.

She wanted to turn from the holo-display and get everyone moving for evacuation, but Leia kept her eyes locked on the screen in a declaration of strength. She wasn't going to let him see her or her people panic. Not today.

But Kylo Ren wasn't finished with dismembering their morale. War wasn't about winning the physical battles out on the field; at least, not completely. There was so much more to it than fighting and bloodshed. War was a mental game - a game of wits and wills, and this whole display he'd orchestrated was one big blow to their mental fortitude. Fear had a way of disassembling the walls people erected in order to compartmentalize their weaknesses and pitfalls, and all the thoughts that spun around their head about how they were going to fail, and the First Order would end up triumphant. He needed them to be ruled and blinded by their blackest of emotions; a mentally weak enemy was an easy enemy.

"I'll leave the _Redeemer_ here for you to collect, Organa. I'm sure your band of traitors is in desperate need of ships. She lost her crew, but the _Redeemer_ is still fully functional. I'm sure you'll find a use for her. I'll send over the coordinates."

It was heartless. Kylo Ren mocked them. They may be able to retrieve their ship, but the _Redeemer_ was far from what its namesake suggested. Now? It was one large, metal tomb, a graveyard for their comrades in arms who they had been powerless to help in even the smallest way. All they would find on that ship when they did retrieve it were dead, lifeless bodies entering into the state of decay and rot that followed. There would certainly be no redemption to be found aboard that ship. Leia didn't even know if she'd be able to find crew willing to fly it, and yet she would send out a retrieval team because, unfortunately, Kylo Ren was right. If the ship was still functional then it was worth having, and they needed every ship they could get their hands on.

Rey couldn't take standing around, anymore. The Resistance needed to get itself into gear and begin the evacuation process, or else they may be facing a similar situation to their plight on Crait. She rushed forward, gently nudging her way passed Resistance members staring on at the holo-display in blanched shock, and came to a halt in front of Leia. _Begin evacuations_ , she said to Leia mentally through the Force. _We need to get off world as soon as possible._

Behind her, Leia was moved to action, too, and silently began directing everyone to gather up their equipment. Lieutenant Connix had already been broadcasting their message for the past several minutes. It was all Leia could do but hope their allies had all received the transmission, and no one would be arriving on Vrogas Vas to their demise at the hands of the First Order.

Rey's image filled the screen. It made him come up short for just a moment. What she must think of him now. If the hardened expression on her face was any indication, her thoughts were surely not benevolent. There was nothing he could do about that, though. There had been an opportunity and he'd taken it. Scouts had found the _Redeemer_ en route, and relayed its location to the _Finalizer_. It was his chance to get a grip on the Resistance, and yes, he'd taken it, and he'd wanted to take it. He wouldn't apologize to her for that.

"Have you lost your mind," she said between grit teeth. He heard every last drop of ferocity in her words, in her voice; a voice he'd come to recognize so well. As ever, her strength burned in her chest like a never ending flame. Nothing ever dampened it; not watching him torture someone, not being tortured herself at his own hand, or Snoke's. Not being trapped aboard the _Supremacy_ without a single ally except the persistent hope she could find a partner in Kylo Ren. It made her similar to the Jedi of old, a righteous fire. Noble. Admirable. How it awed him.

"Release your anger," he said passionately in response. "When I arrive on Vrogas Vas, I hope we meet on the battlefield." There was longing laced between every syllable of his words, a dark, greedy beast. As ever, the tenacious ink of his own energy whorled about inside him like a storm, and she could feel it in the Force, even so far away. If he was the tempest, then she must be the weather worker that controlled him, or else ended him entirely. She didn't know if she could end him, though, even after everything she'd just witnessed. Why was he such a weak spot? No - a blind spot? She could never think straight when they came face to face. She could never see around him; he filled her vision entirely.

He'd challenged her to a fight. It was an invitation she fully intended to take, if indeed the First Order arrived before their forces could be completely cleared from the planet. She would hold off the entire army if that's what was needed in order to make sure everyone left safely.

"I'll be waiting," she replied. Between them, an oddly aggressive thrill jolted their senses, and their connection.

War had begun.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Star Wars: Division

Impulse53669: Well, it's nice to hear you've been enjoying the story! Thanks for the review. And also thanks for the feedback. I really appreciate it.

Now, I can see where some of you guys may be confused by the last chapter, and honestly, I sort of intended that. Haha. Nice of me, right? This chapter should provide some background as to how the jump was made, though. I decided to update sooner than Thursday to help clear up the confusion. I hope this helps! The briefest description I can give for the events of Chapter Eleven is: First Order scouts find a Republic ship - the Redeemer - en route to the rendezvous point with the Resistance. First Order forces board the ship and kill everyone except for one captain, who Kylo Ren tries to use as leverage against Leia, but ends up having to torture for the Resistance's location coordinates. If you're still confused just leave me a comment. I'll always address concerns, questions, and critiques.

Chapter Twelve

 **Then:**

He knelt before the twisted up visage of Darth Vader's helmet, as he was prone to do when in need of contemplation and guidance. He could see the way forward, but problems kept him from truly pushing his plans onward, namely his lead General and said General's newly acquired crony - Carise Sindian. As if trying to maneuver around Hux was tricky enough, now he would need to sidestep the both of them. But besides his plans for the First Order, he had other things he wanted to invest his time in, and as of yet had been unable to. It was no secret to him that Snoke - like all Sith Masters - had purposefully kept things hidden from his apprentice in order to keep Kylo Ren from achieving the kind of power needed to overthrow him. Of course, Kylo Ren had been able to do it regardless because of Snoke's immeasurable arrogance, but that aside - there was so much knowledge out there on the Force, both Light and Dark, and he wanted to seek it. Like Darth Vader had done before him, building his palace on Mustafar to be close to the dark energy locus that was centered within the planet. He may have never been able to reach the heights necessary to overthrow Sidious (though, to be honest, Kylo Ren had to wonder if it wasn't because of Vader's lack of strength, but lack of confidence), but it hadn't stopped him from delving into Sith secrets.

At least, those were the rumors. He hadn't been encouraged to learn about his grandfather as a child - to say the least. Even after joining Snoke, he'd been discouraged from looking into the knowledge Vader had sought; Kylo Ren could only assume it was because Snoke was afraid of him gaining too much power, though he claimed it was because he was only an apprentice, and not ready for the kinds of secrets someone like Vader would have collected. Funny, considering Snoke had spent so much time trying to mold him into the same figure his grandfather had been, stroking his ego with images of Darth Vader ruling over the Galaxy with so much power he was feared all the way to the Outer-Rim. But he'd learned that Snoke filled his head with such ideas of grandeur to keep him preoccupied, to keep his thoughts on reaching the heights of Darth Vader, and not reaching his own, which would include surpassing his Master. Jedi dealt in falsehoods; he had learned, in an even more gut-wrenching epiphany of disillusionment, that the Sith did the same.

And that was why he didn't care much for either. He'd said as much aboard the _Supremacy_.

"Grandfather," he said lowly to the helmet as he bent his head. For years he'd been attempting to reach him through the Force, to call on him, but Anakin never showed. Instead, he was always left in oppressive silence, as if his grandfather was judging him from beyond the boundaries of his vision, and deeming him unworthy. Yet, he never stopped trying.

A blue aura touched upon his closed eyelids. A thrill of expectation went through him, making his heart jump. Could it be - ?

When he opened his eyes all he saw was the disapproving gaze of his uncle.

"You and I have nothing left to say," he said with a snarl.

"That's what you think, kid," Luke shot back at his nephew.

Kylo Ren hated that - _kid_. Like his father had always done. Luke did it on purpose to rattle him, just as he'd done on Crait before revealing his master deception. "I want to talk to my grandfather, not the husk of my uncle," he said tightly.

"Well, I want to talk to you." Luke unclasped his hands from behind his back and folded his arms. "I won't let you turn her," he said sternly.

"That's not up to you anymore, you dead fool," he ground out through grit teeth.

"I'm not going to abandon her, whatever you may think."

"Not like you did me?" He raised his head, then, to glare up at Luke accusingly. At the very least, Luke Skywalker had the grace to look ashamed.

The Force Ghost of his uncle sighed wearily. "Failure has plagued my life, it's true."

"It will also plague your death," he shot back defiantly.

"You told me on Crait that you'd destroy her. The Resistance. All of it."

"And what concerns do the dead have with my words?"

"I told you, I won't let you turn her. I won't let you change her. She carries the hope of the Galaxy on her shoulders."

He stayed silent. Luke Skywalker was a fool; he didn't know exactly what had transpired between Rey and his uncle on Ahch'To, but he knew from past conversations with her that he had been an unwilling teacher. Certainly at the beginning. It wasn't unfair to assume Luke had sensed things about Rey that he had once sensed in his nephew and - like a coward - feared. Why Luke had returned to train her now, he didn't know, but he was sure there were things about Rey he didn't know, or was lying to himself about.

Because there was darkness in her. She'd shown it to him. The weight of her palm on his throat while she kissed along his jaw still lingered on his skin.

"Ben," Luke said tentatively.

He raised his head once more, eyes shadowed. "Ben Solo is dead. His Master, Luke Skywalker, killed him."

With a faint hum of sound similar to that of a gentle breeze, the Ghost of his past faded away.

He'd come to this private room to meditate and think of his goals, to weigh his options, and all he'd gotten was the unsettling presence of his old Master. Worse, it only confirmed Kylo Ren's suspicions about Rey's training; if Luke was appearing to him as a Ghost, surely he'd already been visiting Rey. So, he had returned to give her the proper training he'd denied her in life? Training in lightsaber assembly and combat was fine. It was the possibility of Jedi teachings that worried him. It was Luke's influence on her that was the problem. He would repress her like he'd done his nephew.

Hux, Sindian, and now Luke - the three would surely drive him mad.

"Supreme Leader," rang a voice over his personal commlink.

"What is it," he said stiffly.

"A scouting unit has come across what appears to be a Republic ship - the _Redeemer_. Its movements have been reported as irregular."

"How so?"

"Scouts claim its using an old trade route via the Mid-Rim that passes Trandosha."

This piqued his interest. Trandoshan routes were extremely uncommon; the Republic didn't deal too much with the planet, and certainly any old trade routes that passed within distance of it were primarily used by smugglers. Republic ships wouldn't use smuggler routes unless they needed to avoid detection.

He stood, moved to action. "Tell the scouting party to stay on their trail. Order the bridge to initiate lightspeed. Inform the fleet."

"Right away, Supreme Leader." The line went dead.

This, at least, would be promising. Killing a crew of Republic forces he had no doubt were trying to make contact with the Resistance would surely provide him with all the stress relief he needed.

 **Now:**

Pandemonium trumpeted its call over the heads of the scurrying Resistance members; it was chaos. For some of the veterans to the cause - Leia, Rose, Poe, Finn, Rey - this was business as usual, but for the greenies, the novices, the fresh new faces that had only been recruited in the last two weeks - _some in the last two days_ \- this was a time to panic and fly about and miss the big picture entirely. They needed to be reigned in, but Leia was busy helping Lieutenant Connix get all of their communications equipment packed and ready; they couldn't leave a single piece behind, it was too important. Without the ability to cast their signal and send messages, the Resistance would be nothing more than a stranded group of fools. Poe was leading the X-Wing fighters to their planes so that the three squadrons would be airborne and on the lookout for incoming First Order forces. Finn, Rose, and a few of the other members that had survived Crait were doing their best at directing people on where to go, what to pick up, and how to pack up the supplies, but the cacophony of panic was often too loud for their voices to be heard.

Rey huffed, watching everyone run about. At this rate, the First Order would arrive before a single Resistance ship was in the air, and everything they'd spent the last month working so hard to acquire, and all the efforts they'd put into rebuilding, would be a complete waste. They'd all be as dead as the crew of the _Redeemer_ they had had the horror of seeing just moments ago on the holo-display. She couldn't allow that. Leia had asked for her help in leading them, and she had been so unsure, then, so conflicted. But in that moment of need, Rey picked up the mantle naturally; it came to her without a second thought.

Hanging on Finn's belt was a blaster. She called it to her hand with ease, then unlatched the safety and fired a few shots into the ceiling of the hangar. The chaos of the room was quickly stifled as people froze in place and looked for the source of the gun fire. "Everyone," Rey called from atop a stack of crates, "let's keep clear heads, okay? If we stay organized we can get everything evacuated in time. Don't panic."

Though fear was still very much apparent in the perfectly rounded globes of some of the newer recruits' eyes, she noticed that, at the very least, they were focusing all their attention on her, and seemed ready to listen without falling immediately back into a frenzy. That was something.

"All right," she said evenly, casting her eyes around the large room. "We all have our assigned ships. Everyone go to your assigned ship and band together with your crew members. Captains, lead your crew through loading all relevant supplies and equipment." There were nodding heads, and some people looked around for their fellow crew members, seeing who they could find in the tangle of people. "Also, please, everyone!" Rey said at a raised volume; this was important. "Arm yourselves! Make sure you have a blaster. In the event the First Order arrives and is able to board any of our ships, we want to give them one hell of a fight!"

A cheer of agreement rang throughout the hangar.

"Okay - go, go!" She urged everyone. The crowd dispersed and followed their orders perfectly; within a minute every ship's crew was assembled and loading boxes and crates with the efficiency of an assembly line.

Things were looking good. More than half of the supplies had been loaded, and all of their communications equipment was packed and safely aboard the transport for the new Resistance flagship - the _Radiance_.

Their pilots had been sitting in the cockpits of their X-Wings, ready to go, since the beginning of the scramble and they were getting itchy. Pilots hated to be all geared up, with their engines running, just idling on the tarmac waiting for the action to break out. Personally, Rey was glad nothing had broken out, yet. They didn't need a confrontation no matter how badly the pilots wanted to somersault in the air and shoot down enemies.

Leia appeared at her side, suddenly, and placed a hand on her shoulder as Rey bent down to pick up another supply crate. "You see that? You have what it takes to lead, Rey," the older woman said with a sideways smirk.

Rey allowed herself a smile; it did feel good to lead, she couldn't deny it. "Yeah, I guess," she said with a casual wipe across her brow with the back of her hand, but on the inside she felt a little giddy. It was a bit of a big deal to get praise from Leia Organa, especially on leadership abilities.

The General gave her shoulder a squeeze, then gestured to the hangar at large. "We're almost done here, thankfully, so - "

But her words were cut off as a Resistance member - one of the recon crew members, to be exact - came running inside, full speed, yelling, "The First Order fleet has arrived in orbit. They're making their landing!"

The order and determined calm they'd been able to acquire in the rundown structure quickly erupted into chaos once more. Rey's brow furrowed and she hurried out of the hangar into the center of the refueling station's ruins. She watched all of the X-Wings that had been so impatiently waiting on standby, kick their thrusters into high gear and turn down what remained of the old runway. It wasn't a moment too soon; they were in the sky just as TIE fighters came howling their way through the air, firing on the ground with red laser bullets.

"To your ships - now!" she heard Leia command behind her as the General hurried to the transport for the star cruiser, which they'd kept hovering above the station for just such an occasion as this; getting a star cruiser powered up and off the ground took too long to make a quick escape. "Captain," Leia all but screamed into her comm link to the _Radiance's_ bridge. "Engage shields immediately. Expect incoming fire. As soon as we get aboard, prepare to enter orbit and punch it to lightspeed."

When the General made it to the transport ramp and noticed Rey wasn't beside her, she quickly turned on her heel. Rey was still standing in the same spot, her eyes fixed on the sky. Leia looked over her shoulder to see what she was looking at and Kylo Ren's TIE Silencer rapidly descended to the ground. With a furrowed brow etched in worry, Leia turned back to the young woman and frowned. It wasn't that she didn't have faith in her, but Rey was still an inexperienced fighter and Leia had learned early on in her military career that it was often better to run and fight another day, especially if it was a day without the kind of surprise attack that had just been sprung on them. But she'd also learned something else after having met her brother: it was impossible to talk down a Jedi. Once they'd made up their mind to fight and be a hero, there was no stopping them. She smiled ruefully at the memories of her brother, and then turned and boarded the transport without a second glance.

Chaos reigned in the skies, filled with the _whirrs_ and _hums_ of X-Wings and TIE fighters engaged in a daredevil dogfight. The air was filled with the sharp cry of blaster fire, painting the sky with their usual reds and greens. Here and there puffs of smoke would appear and billow upwards. Still, Rey stood her ground, rooted in place with determination, as the TIE Silencer finally opened its hatch. She readied herself with her lightsaber, face contorted with the same persistence and stubbornness that had served her well on Starkiller Base. Some Resistance members stopped to gawk at the figure of Kylo Ren as he stomped slowly and surely down the ramp, but most kept their heads down and eyes on their work. There weren't many supply crates left, and it may have been wiser to abandon them, but with the state the Resistance was in, even a single supply crate left behind could really set them back. They needed every last one, which they had fought tooth and nail to acquire. Leaving them behind just didn't feel like an option.

"Rey!" Finn yelled over the overwhelming din of the landscape between them. It was a wonder she'd heard him at all.

She waved her hand at him impatiently. "Go!" she yelled as loudly as she could.

Whatever he had been about to respond was cut short as the transport hatch closed.

It was a difficult fight for the pilots, as they focused their fire primarily on the ground, but had to avoid TIE fighter guns as they chased their Resistance counterparts through the air. Even though the _Finalizer's_ full wing had yet to be replenished, they still outnumbered the X-Wings 55 to 36, which made their predicament even more challenging. The reason the X-Wings had to focus-fire the ground was because of the stormtroopers peppering it with blaster fire as they tried to shoot down the remaining Resistance members rushing about between the interior of the hangar and the ships docked outside, doing their best to finish loading supplies amongst the anarchy of battle.

Luckily, Rey could help with that thanks to her more recent training. _Close to the body, precise, defensive movements_ , echoed Luke's voice in the back of her mind. She steeled herself, ignited her lightsaber, and slowly walked towards the front line of stormtroopers. Keeping her lightsaber tight and tucked close to the chest, she quickly deflected several bolts of blaster fire with twists of her wrist. She wasn't as concerned with where the blaster fire landed as long as it wasn't landing on Resistance forces, so most of them simply went wild, hitting the old ruins of Vrogas Vas. None of them hit stormtroopers, but her efforts were helping; the supplies had almost been entirely loaded, and the transport had already reached the _Radiance_. The _TL_ was already ready to go, its engines revved and firing. The last members of its crew brought aboard the final crate and the ship got airborne. Two X-Wings barrel-rolled around the _TL_ to ensure it safely made it to orbit as TIE fighters attempted to shoot it down.

Rey watched with a sigh of relief as the _Radiance_ left Vrogas Vas's atmosphere, and made the final push into space. Shortly after, the _TL_ was on the ascension, following in the _Radiance's_ footsteps.

It became obvious why Kylo Ren didn't use Form III in combat; what was the point of deflecting blaster fire when he could simply stop it in mid-air with the Force? His reflexes had been honed far beyond her own, and once more she had come face to face with the deficit of her own training in comparison to his. Still, this wouldn't be like their fight on Batuu when she had been without a lightsaber and without Luke's recent combat training. _And Kylo Ren's_ , she thought suddenly, remembering how the very enemy before her had aided her when she'd been in need. As ever, things were confusing - she was perpetually caught between the Light and the Dark sides of the Force, being trained simultaneously by both, with the Light providing her with a proper Master, but the Dark giving her a confidant.

With ease, Kylo Ren reached out a hand and _yanked_ on the crate being carried by two crew members as they ran towards their ship. The force of the pull toppled both of them down to the ground as the box dropped, and Kylo Ren's crackling red lightsaber made quick work of them. She grit her teeth and deflected blaster fire as she went. When one deflected towards his chest, he caught it in the air, then threw it towards another Resistance crew scrambling across the station. She flipped into the bullet's path and deflected it a second time with her blade.

Though Form III was a set style for all Jedi and Sith alike, each force-user brought their own unique touch to every movement, taking the different stances and steps and giving it the sort of nuance that made it second-nature for the fighter. And he recognized hers; he'd seen this very particular take on Soresu from his earlier years: Luke. Soresu had always been one of his preferred Forms, meaning he used it often and had his own stylized way of doing things. Now he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, as he watched Rey swiftly transition through the defensive blocks and swings of her lightsaber, that his old Master was training her - influencing her.

 _I won't let you turn her_ , echoed in his mind. Those eyes, all blue and full of accusation as if he'd had no part in Ben's transformation from Leia and Han's son to Snoke's dark apprentice. Same as his father, his mother; everyone wanted to deny responsibility, but chastised him for seeking another way forward after the Jedi Order had failed him. Luke would seek to control Rey the same as he had tried to control Ben. And when he saw that different _something_ inside her? Something dark he thought needed to be purged? What then? He couldn't try to murder her the same as he'd tried to murder his nephew, not now as a dead failure, just a mere whisper forever emanating through the Force.

Another crew member tripped and fell forward with a yelp of pain as a blaster bullet struck his leg. Rey saw a stormtrooper aim his gun at the man's back as the front line advanced on the Resistance. She arrived at the man's side just in time to deflect the bullet, panting heavily, and hauled him to his feet. His arm thrown around her shoulders, she hurried him to the ramp of his ship; his fellow crew members took him from her grasp and got him safely on board. Out of sheer luck none of the stormtroopers' fire had hit her, but when she turned back to the scene at large she saw several more Resistance members had been struck down; a supply crate had landed so hard it broke open, spilling its contents across the broken up cement of the station's wreckage. The ship at her back closed up its hatch and quickly lifted off the ground. She didn't know if they were leaving before they'd taken all their crew members or supplies, but they were quickly running out of time as First Order forces bore down on them. Even though several TIE fighters had been shot from the sky, trailing black smoke amid the reds and greens of laser fire and crashing into the surrounding barren landscape around the station, the First Order heavily outnumbered them - what else was new? And the stormtroopers were relentlessly advancing. If the ships didn't take off in the next minute, Rey was sure they wouldn't make it.

As the force of the wind created from the ship's exhaust buffeted against her back, causing her hair to fly about her face, she saw Kylo Ren reach out towards it in the Force; she knew instinctively he was going to try and hold it, keep it from going any further so that his TIE fighters and ground units alike had the chance to shoot it down. With as much strength as she could muster, she also stretched out her hand in the Force and _pushed_ to deflect his own. For a moment, the two stood locked in place as their wills in the Force warred against each other, much as it had on the _Supremacy_. Then, with a concussive blast, both of them were sent sprawling backwards. Rey hit the ground hard and came to a skidding halt. She groaned, faced down on the ground.

A hundred feet away, the black figure of Kylo Ren did the same.

Simultaneously, both Force-users raised themselves up on their arms slowly, Rey blinking dust and grit from her eyes; Kylo Ren panted heavily. When they stood, they turned to face one another again, and with similar movements - as if the two figures were a mirror of each other's other half - they called their lightsabers back into their hands and reignited the blades. With a loud, guttural growl, Rey used the Force against a small group of approaching stormtroopers and pushed them over. Then, eyes on Kylo Ren, she mocked him with a swirl of her wrist that swung her lightsaber in a fancy circle, much the same as he'd taunted her on Batuu.

Another instant and the two lightsabers were clashing, creating that sharp, electric ring as they were forced against each other, red and blue vibrating as angrily as their owners. She grit her teeth and tried to push against him, but Kylo Ren's heavier blows in Form V were too much against her Form III. She realized she hadn't yet changed stances, a definitive sign of her inexperience. Form III was the best technique for deflecting blaster fire and being defensive, but it was no match for the other forms, especially V. Her elbows felt ready to buckle under the push of his blow; she quickly ducked down and rolled sideways, so that his strike overbalanced him. He turned towards her just as she was able to get upright and change to her usual combat style. He advanced on her and she used the Force to _throw_ some of the station's rubble at him; he swung at each piece effortlessly, cutting them down.

In truth, she was exhausted. Using the Force in tandem with Form III to read the pathway of blaster fire in order to effectively deflect it had depleted so much of her energy. Holding out against his more aggressive combat style had just about depleted the rest. The adrenaline that had been rushing through her early on, aiding in her efforts, was dissipating as she panted heavily and sweat formed on her lower back. It was discouraging to see it didn't look like Kylo Ren was feeling the fatigues of battle at all.

As she quickly wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, she realized he'd backed her up into the hangar, a large space, but an enclosed large space that only had one door. Over his shoulder she saw the _Falcon_ , zooming through the sky to aid the X-Wings in their dogfight. But the dogfight was coming to an end - the last of the Resistance ships were hovering just above the ground, ready to blast off. How was she going to get herself off the planet, now?

"Do you really think you'll accomplish anything like this," he asked through the modulator of his helmet.

Startled from her thoughts, her eyes were drawn back to his advancing figure.

"It was only three decades ago that the Empire fell and the New Republic emerged. And yet the Republic has fallen again and the First Order is on the verge of taking over, following in the Empire's footsteps," he persisted. "It didn't take the Senate any time at all to fall victim to corruption. Senators were lured by promises from Snoke with minimal effort. I was there. I saw it."

She took a moment to catch her breath before answering earnestly, "But before that the Republic saw hundreds of years of peace," she said, trying to convince him while also trying to convince herself. "It was the rise of the Emperor that unbalanced the Galaxy and the Force."

He scoffed. "Which one of the Skywalker siblings told you that?"

It was these types of moments that continued to illustrate just how naive she still was, how little she knew of the Galaxy's past, of the Force and the way it operated. Between them, it was her biggest weakness - her lack of knowledge and training. It became so unbearably clear to her how much of a novice she was, and how far she had to go to catch up with him. Kylo Ren had grown up with a Senator and Force-sensitive for a mother, a Rebel hero for a father, and a Jedi Master for an uncle, not to mention his grandfather and the Skywalker legacy. The Galaxy's history, its politics - these were things he'd been learning and surrounded by since birth. And her? She'd been a scavenger slave on the desolate Jakku, more concerned with finding enough to earn some rations so she wouldn't starve than the lofty academics of her counterpart.

"Don't listen to their lies," he said lowly. "Think of what you could become, all your potential, and realize the truth."

Her bottom lip quivered with lassitude. "Which is what?"

"That the Force brought us together for a reason. And I don't think it was so we could kill each other."

Something burned in his eyes.

With a sudden surge of ferocity, she struck out at him; his ever-crackling lightsaber came up swiftly and blocked it. "I won't listen to you," she snarled.

An odd sound escaped the helmet - a scoff? "And who will you listen to? Luke, your new Jedi Master? Does it feel satisfying to finally be a Padawan," he taunted.

His jabs weren't going to affect her. "Yes," she all but spit back at him.

The same sound of belligerent frustration came from the helmet. "Sometimes the truth is dark, Rey. You know that from your time on Ahch'To," he persisted. It was true - the truth that had awaited her on the island of the Jedi Order's origins had not been a pleasant one. She remembered how lonely it had made her feel, empty and forgotten. It had led her to form a connection to Kylo Ren she would've never thought possible.

"Maybe," she said, trying to gather herself against words she knew were meant to pull down her defenses. "But the Jedi choose the Light side of the Force because it reveals the truth, dark or otherwise."

"Is that what the Aionomica says? Or the Rammahgon?"

So, he knew the names of some of the ancient Jedi texts. She supposed he would, given his upbringing.

He regarded her through the cross their lightsabers made as they continued to stay locked in place. "And when Luke first told you about trying to kill me - did he tell the truth then?"

She hesitated. He hadn't. He had lied the first time, and then lied a second time. Kylo Ren knew that. Luke hadn't been honest with her until after she'd seen her vision, after Luke had caught them touching hands in the hut. When confronted, he had been forced to admit his shame. But if she hadn't demanded answers, would he have ever told her?

"The Light can't reveal everything, not if the shadows go deep enough," he said dangerously, like the edge of an abyss open and waiting to accept her into its arms.

She recalled the wall of ice that she had approached and been transported through, and the line of hers that had gone on for so long, but culminated in the cold realization that her parents - whoever they were - had never wanted to come back for their sad, abandoned daughter. That dark truth had been loneliness - utter, crushing loneliness, made because her parents had never loved her. She had spent all those years scratching marks into her little rusted walker, giving her parents the hopeful, bright-eyed benefit of the doubt, and they had sold her into slavery, and never planned to return; they didn't want her. Unloved. Alone and unloved, deprived of a childhood, deprived of a family. All she had was herself.

A tear spilled down her cheek.

How sympathetic he was. Yes, his parents had loved him, in their way, but they had also never been around. When they were - they fought. His father had never been able to understand him, with his skepticism of the Force, his lack of patience with Jedi knowledge and overall mistrust of Jedi abilities. To look down at his son and see a powerful Jedi in the making had unnerved him. His mother? He scared his mother - she could sometimes feel his tumultuous nature through the Force. She worried he'd take after his grandfather, and so she always kept him at arm's length, haunted by the memories and legend of Darth Vader and his stain of evil upon the Galaxy. What if her own son turned out like that? The possibility of it terrified her enough to send him away. In that way, both Force-users standing in that hangar, locked against each other, had been abandoned by their parents, irrevocably linking them to the same pain, and to the same darkness a child faces in the depravity of familial affection.

It was hard not to see how beautiful she was in that moment, her eyes reflecting both streams of their lightsabers, a bright streak of red and blue across their natural hazel color. These moments that made them feel as one through the Force, as their past memories and wounds bridged them together in a way far more intimate and real than the connection that bridged them across time and space, made his heart beat with rapid flutters he never experienced anywhere else. And he may not be able to hear it, but her heart thumped in her chest with the same kind of intoxicating speed.

She couldn't see his eyes, but felt them on her as much as she felt the weight of his strength as he pressed his blade to hers.

Aboard the _Radiance_ , the bridge was bustling with activity. Not only were they trying to plot a safe course through hyperspace, but they were also doing their best to maintain shields and outrun the First Order fleet which, just like during the evacuation of D'Qar, was fast on their trail. Luckily, the Resistance forces still had their usual advantage: their ships were half the size of the First Order's star destroyers, meaning they could outstrip them with ease. Star destroyers were powerful, but also bulky and slow. Even though their cannons were firing on the _Radiance's_ rear shields, they were nothing more than a tickle.

Even given their positive prospects of escape, Finn was beside himself. He followed Leia around the bridge, desperate to get an answer. "Why did you leave Rey down there?" he asked furiously.

For the most part, Leia was ignoring him, her mouth set in a thin line as she orchestrated the protection and escape of her new ship and its crew. She was relieved to see the _TL_ join them in space, and the remaining ships all linked-in to report they had lifted off the ground and were on their way into the atmosphere. The crease between her brows eased as her shoulders released some of their tension. Rey had helped ensure all of the ships left the ground, and once they were all in space and in formation, they could jump to hyperspace. They had lost four X-Wings, but that was a small price to pay, all things considered. Everything else had gone successfully.

"Leia," Finn yelled angrily, fed up with being ignored. "How could you leave her down there to face the First Order?"

Steeling herself, Leia finally turned to face the enraged ex-stormtrooper. "Rey chose to stay to make sure our forces got off the ground. Because of her we're going to get out of this with minimal casualties."

"I don't care," Finn interjected impatiently. "She's going to die down there alone!"

"She's a Jedi, Finn - it's time you learned that. I didn't give her an order, she decided to stay on her own to help protect everyone, like any Jedi would. If we had stayed, our forces would've been decimated and everything we've spent the past few weeks rebuilding would be gone. We owe her our lives."

Finn huffed, adrenaline coursing through his veins from the rush of the battle, and also his anger. "And her life? It doesn't mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does," Leia said scathingly, her own patience wearing thin. To be accused of not caring - it chafed at her conscience. "But like I said, Finn, she chose to stay. Jedi don't answer to me. Jedi don't answer to anyone other than their own Order. That's how it has always been. Look," she sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. She gave it a squeeze. "Chewie stayed on the ground with the _Falcon_. When they can escape, they will. I have faith."

Finn swallowed and slowly pushed her hand off his shoulder. Her answer just wasn't good enough. There he was - there they all were! - safe and sound aboard the new cruiser feeling triumphant while Rey faced off against their enemy by herself, some lone beacon of strength in the face of evil. "Faith isn't going to save Rey," he said lowly, and then he turned and stormed his way off the bridge.

Leia watched him go with an oddly nostalgic feeling. How many times had that been her in her youth? How many times had she worried about Luke when he went into battles by himself? When he'd gone to face their father and the Emperor all those years ago, while she'd gone to Endor? But she'd learned there was simply no stopping Force-users when they thought they were doing what was necessary of them. She couldn't reason with Luke all those years ago, and she certainly wasn't going to be able to reason with Rey, now. Finn was going to have to learn the same lesson and accept it.

 **Back in the hangar on Vrogas Vas -**

"Come with me," he urged her, words that were rapidly becoming their usual exchange.

"I can't do that," she replied. It was a conversation they'd now had many times.

"Why not," he said, his voice pitched in a rising tone of aggravation.

"Because I'm still not sure what I think of all this," she fired back with a desperate conviction. "Don't you understand? You may have more knowledge and more training than me, but I can't simply take your word for it. I don't know what's the truth. I don't know what's right!"

" _We_ are what's right," he said insistently. "You feel it, I feel it. Yet you keep denying it!"

"I don't deny it," she yelled back. How could she? After all that had passed between them, how could she deny her feelings for him?

The urge to kiss him rose up in her, but his helmet kept her from touching their lips together. Somehow, she sensed the same kind of thoughts in him, resulting in an impotent sexual tension between them.

Maybe it made him weak - maybe she was beginning to make a fool of him, he didn't know or care. He just needed to hear those words, those words she'd said once before as she'd lain half naked on his bed. "Tell me," he said breathlessly, though through his helmet it sounded more like a desperate rasp. "Tell me you want me," he whispered.

The ghost of his palm cupped between her legs made her thighs quake. "I want you."

"Supreme Leader," yelled a stormtrooper.

Distracted, Rey was shot by the stormtrooper's blaster just as she saw him and two others come running into the hangar. With an out cry of pain from the wound blossoming red on the wing of her left shoulder, she recoiled and her lightsaber blade deactivated as she fell backwards.

With an unnatural speed - a speed enhanced by his feelings of wrath fueled by the Dark Side of the Force - he caught sight of her wound, and then spun around and squeezed the offending stormtrooper so brutally with the Force that instead of choking him to death, his neck broke, and the body crumpled to the ground.

"S-Supreme Leader," questioned one of the two remaining troopers. Both stumbled back a step at his aggression, and grew afraid.

He lifted up his lightsaber and pulled one directly onto the blade; it caught the trooper through the middle, and he sliced upwards. The final stormtrooper attempted to flee, but he was too quick - too blinded with rage. With a fierce pull, the stormtrooper was brought directly into the path of his lightsaber as it sliced down and cut him directly in half, right across the torso.

Huffing, he stared down at the dead stormtroopers.

The outside battle let its presence be known to the two Force-users, who had been so entangled in their own dealings they'd nearly forgotten this was a battle between the First Order and the Resistance. An X-Wing came twirling into the hangar, peppering the ground. Both Kylo Ren and Rey looked up: it was Poe. Kylo Ren growled. Again this pilot was ruining his moment. Worse, right behind the Resistance ace was Chewie flying the _Falcon_. The ramp was already open, beckoning Rey to safety, as it flew directly over her and hovered.

Holding her shoulder, she used her injured arm to clip her lightsaber back to her belt.

Kylo Ren turned to see her flip backwards directly onto the ramp. They stared at each other as the hatch slowly lifted, reminiscent of Crait. In all honesty, she didn't want to leave, and he sensed that. But he also sensed she felt she didn't have a choice. The Resistance had become her family - a family she had never had, but wanted so very badly. She couldn't turn their back on them.

It was immensely painful to think she could turn her back on him.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Star Wars: Division

Demelza1999: Oh wow - that's fantastic! I'm glad my story was able to engage you enough to keep you glued to your tablet, as you said. And of course, thank you so much for the compliments. I never feel like 'thank you' is enough when people compliment my writing, but I just never know what else to say.

The release this week is a little wanky schedule wise - sorry. I haven't been feeling too well. I have some sinus/head cold type stuff going on, and a mildly sore throat, so it definitely messed up my plans on getting this chapter out. And it's a little short, but I felt it needed to get slowed down a little before the coming chapters, which as long as everything goes accordingly will be packed with stuff.

Chapter Thirteen

There was an eerie quiet about med-bay that unsettled her, which was strange considering she'd grown up in the desolation of the desert. She supposed she'd gotten used to the sounds of a ship - beeps, whirrs, the steady hum of machines at work, and the bangs of booted feet up and down hallways. Especially after the excitement on Vrogas Vas, sitting alone in med-bay, with its shiny steel walls and well-mannered, delicate med droid, was certainly too quiet for her to feel at ease. What did it say about her that calm and quiet didn't relax her, but rather stressed her out? There was nothing to be stressed out about; the Resistance had escaped in the best fashion it could. Some supplies had been lost, some people, some X-Wings, but all in all it was probably the most they could've hoped for. And they'd wasted no time broadcasting their signal across the Galaxy to discourage other Republic forces from arriving at Vrogas Vas, so hopefully no other forces would be arriving to a doomed fate. It set them back, but it was certainly a setback they could work with and accept.

With careful fingertips, she touched the newly formed scar on her left shoulder; it was in the fleshy spot next to her collarbone, and it wasn't that large of a wound. A round, pinkish thing of gently puckered flesh. It didn't even hurt anymore, she marveled, unfamiliar with the capabilities of the modern medicines and treatments of the civilized world. She fisted her left hand tightly, and then released and gave her fingers a wiggle. No pain or soreness at all.

"How does it feel, Miss Rey," asked the even-toned, passive robotic voice of the med droid.

She looked up and gave it a small smile. "Just fine. Thank you."

"Wonderful," said the droid. "And was your rest refreshing?"

"Yes, it was a good nap. Thank you," she continued politely.

"Good. I'm to tell you that General Organa is requesting your presence on the bridge. Apparently, the Resistance has received a message that is of great importance."

Nervousness struck her as she remembered that dreadful moment when the bridge of the _Redeemer_ had contacted their communication board in the hangar of Vrogas Vas, and they'd come face to face with Kylo Ren and destruction. Had something happened while she'd been sleeping? Leia had told her to rest - all but forced her to nap even though she'd protested - and maybe in that time something had gone wrong without her. She quickly stood and thanked the droid one last time, then hurried from the med-bay toward the bridge.

When she arrived, heart pounding, blood rushing in her ears, she came up Shurt; the bridge door slid open to reveal a very calm, collected scene. The crew that were assembled swiveled in their chairs to regard her, some with quizzical looks on their faces as she softly panted in the doorway, and then returned to their work on the navigation computers and other equipment. Leia looked up from the circular table placed in the middle of the room, which was showing a 3-D model of what Rey suspected was a planet or moon, and gave her smile. "Feeling better," the General asked, still leaning over the data display.

"Yes," Rey said softly, awkwardly. She slowly entered the room and looked sideways at the rest of the crew, who were not turning back to gawk at her, and yet she felt silly and self-conscious all the same.

"Good, because I've got a mission for you." She waited until Rey drew level with the circular display, then pointed at the diagram of the planet. "This is Shu-Torun. It's a mining planet in the Mid-Rim rich in volcanic activity. The Royal Family that controls the planet and all of its mining business were forced into a deal with the Empire that was broken when the New Republic formed. However, the First Order reinstated the Empire's old contract with the planet for its ore, and the Queen doesn't want things to return to the old ways. Before we were forced to leave Vrogas Vas, we were able to receive a message from her requesting Resistance aide. Her miners having been banding together in strike, and have rebelled against the First Order forces on-world, but they were granted reinforcements, and she wants our help in securing her planet once and for all. After the events on the _Redeemer_ and Vrogas Vas, securing a partnership with Queen Trios will help bolster our cause tremendously."

Rey paid close attention as Leia spoke, nodding and absorbing everything. It could make for a truly revolutionary relationship for the Resistance, who were in desperate need of raw materials in order to build new ships; they couldn't keep using old cruiser and X-Wings and transports to increase their numbers, and certainly traipsing across the massive sweep of the Galaxy scavenging for parts - scraping up whatever they could find - was too time consuming, and would make for poorly built, old rundown ships besides. Having access to a planet bursting with ore and other building materials was the second most important piece needed in their plans to regrow, with the first being funds. And as far as Rey knew, their cause was overflowing with credits.

"Poe is already getting his X-Wing fueled up."

Rey leaned against the table as she continued to survey the display, but gave a short exhale through her nose in a half-chuckle. "Of course he is."

"He seems to think you'll be eager to join him."

Rey looked up, then, and saw the large, knowing smile on the General's face. "He is really getting to know me," she said with a smile of her own.

"I think we all are," the older woman said with a small laugh. "The task force has assembled in the hangar bay. We're on our way now to drop you off."

"Drop us off?"

Leia sighed. "Yes, unfortunately we can't dedicate all of our forces to the rebellion. I still need to find a new headquarters and use the _Radiance_ to help broadcast to our remaining Republic allies."

"Right, of course," Rey said with a nod. "Then I'll go meet up with Poe and the others now."

Leia nodded.

When Rey turned to go, she stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "And Rey?"

She turned back towards the older woman looking expectant.

"May the Force be with you."

Rey smiled. "And with you."

In the hangar bay aboard the _Radiance_ , just about everyone was excited to learn Rey would be joining them on their mission; who didn't want a Jedi to accompany them? The more superstitious pilots and fighters saw it as a sign of good fortune. There were two people that weren't particularly happy about it, one of them being -

"Finn," Rey said stubbornly, hands on her hips while she eyed her friend. "I'm going on this mission one way or another. You can't stop me." She smiled to try and reassure him. "I can't let some superficial blaster wound deter me from helping people in need."

Finn's strong jaw was set stubbornly as he returned her hard stare. "Rey, you're lucky to have escaped Vrogas Vas at all. And now you want to go on this mission, too? You're injured. You need to stay here and rest."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm healed and well-rested. You guys need me on this mission," she said sternly.

From the front of his ship, where he was polishing off some smudges, Poe was nodding vigorously in time with his hand. "It's true, Finn. Rey will be a big help. You saw her kicking ass on Vrogas Vas."

Rey turned towards the pilot with a broad smile. "Thank you, Poe." She turned back to Finn with a look that said - 'see?'

"Poe's an idiot," Finn said dismissively.

"Hey!" Poe yelled, looking up from his work.

Finn continued, ignoring his friend. "You gotta' stop playing the hero. You're going to get yourself killed. You're not invincible, Rey, I'm serious."

Rey took him by the shoulders. "So am I. I have to do this, and you can't stop me."

The two stood like that, gazes locked in annoyance as they faced off, until finally Finn broke off with a loud, irritated huff and pushed her hands off him. Disgruntled, he stormed his way from the hangar.

"Eh, let him go," Poe said, watching the ex-stormtrooper's retreating back while he wiped off his hands. "He'll come to his senses."

"I hope so," Rey said with sagging shoulders. Why was he giving her such a hard time over everything? She shrugged. When she turned around, Rose was standing by with her arms folded, her face oddly blank. "R-Rose?" Rey questioned with uncertainty.

"He's awfully protective of you," she said lowly.

Rey opened her mouth to say something, but floundered for the right thing to say. Was she being accused of something, or was she just being paranoid? "Well, I guess," she said awkwardly. "But he's like that. You know, loyal and stuff. He worries."

"But he doesn't seem to worry that much about anyone else."

She was really beginning to dislike the way Rose was looking at her, from underneath her eyelids, shadowed and heavy. Everyone knew the two of them had developed a relationship, so Rey could see why Rose would be feeling a bit jealous, but to take it so seriously? And to accuse _her_ , as if she had anything to do with it? "Maybe you should talk to him about it, then," she said a little coldly, and moved past her to join Poe at his ship.

 **Aboard the Finalizer:**

With a slow, careful hand, Armitage smoothed the right side of his hair in the mirror. He remembered the words of his father that had instructed him on the proper etiquette of appearance. A clean, well-kept person set a good example for subordinates and reflected one's pride in their image and work. He gave each of his black leather gloves a small pull at the hem, just to make sure they were perfectly in place, small little tugs of reassurance and habit. With an inhale of satisfaction, he turned from the mirror and answered the call that had been patched through to his personal holo-display.

In the blue hue of the display, the figure of Carise Sindian, dressed with the same pristine cleanliness Armitage had been taught to pride in his own appearance, came in to view. She was smiling; the corners were curled up and gave her a distinctly _le femme fatale_ sort of look. Hers was a much more treacherous trait, though, fueled less by courage and strength and more by venom and greed. Personally, he felt she lacked true vision, prizing the same kind of materialistic wealth and success he attributed to the weak-minded. Not like his father, who had taught him the ins-and-outs of leadership, hierarchy, and reaching new heights within the realms of politics and military. But she could be a useful ally, and he couldn't turn his nose up at that, not when he was suffering under the fist of Kylo Ren.

"How are you, Armitage," came the smooth, velveteen coo of her voice. It was a marvel how a woman with such a poisonous character could make such a sweet, delicate sound. Well, he supposed that was how she got what she wanted; it was easy luring men to their love-sick doom when one's wretched intentions were coated in sugar.

"I'm well, Carise," he replied a bit stiffly, but with a touch of warmness that was rarely ever present in his speech. "I trust you have good news?"

"Well, it seems the mining planet that has been giving our dear Supreme Leader a headache, contacted the Resistance and requested aide." The smile on her face stretched even further, if that were at all possible. "Of course, the Resistance responded and sent some of their forces to the planet in an attempt to help with the insurrection and to build a relationship between Queen Trios and themselves."

Hux did not find this news to be particularly good; if Queen Trios and her people were successful in fighting off First Order forces, that would be bad enough. But if she did so with the Resistance and a friendship were born? Her ore would supply the Resistance with the kind of resources necessary to rebuild their military forces, and being in debt to Organa would probably make it so that the resources were, for a time at least, either donations or extremely cheap. "Enlighten me, Carise, on how this benefits us?"

"Stop being so stern, Armitage," she said with a small wave of her hand. "You're not making my big reveal any fun."

There was another aspect to Carise Sindian's personality that did not endear itself to the austere upbringing of Armitage Hux: her flamboyance. It was the sort of flighty, un-bothered attitude of the extremely wealthy and of royalty, of which she was both. Well, she used to be, he corrected mentally. But having grown up as Lady Carise, having the title stripped from her later in life did not equate to having that cultivated outlook on life stripped away as well. She still carried herself as royalty, and regarded the situation more as a royal who had been wrongfully exiled than as her being the culprit who had wronged her family name and the Senate alike. They certainly came from different spheres: Hux with his military background and father, her from a castle and fairy tales. But they were partners, now. He needed her.

He dipped his head a bit in apology. "I'm sorry, Carise, but I'm just not seeing the importance of this information. How does it help us?"

Her chest swelled with excitement. "I was able to hire a very skilled, very experienced assassin, and this is the perfect opportunity. See," she said with a growing smugness, "the Resistance sent reinforcements to the planet to help with the rebellion. One of those reinforcements was our dear dear Jedi."

At this, Hux stood up straighter. This was news to him. Of course, First Order forces on Shu-Torun had reported the arrival of Resistance forces and X-Wings, but none of their reports had detailed the arrival of the Jedi girl. _Perhaps because they didn't think she was anything special_ , he thought. Their units had been stationed on the mining planet for quite some time, long before the appearance of Rey onto the grand stage that was the war. It was completely possible their soldiers weren't aware of who she was, and as she dressed so un-spectacularly, and was part of a rag-tag group of misfits like the Resistance, they would assume she was nothing more than some urchin that had joined the rebel cause for the same misguided sense of honor and heroism as the rest of them.

"I see your wheels turning," Carise chirped with the same kind of exuberance of an early bird catching the worm.

"Your assassin, you plan to send them to Shu-Torun?"

"They're already on the way."

Armitage did not often allow himself the luxury of showing his emotions, but in that moment nothing could keep the half-grin from pulling up the right side of his mouth in quite the twisted interpretation of a smile. "If they succeed in killing the Jedi, not only will that weaken the Resistance, it will weaken - "

"Kylo Ren," she finished for him with a flourish. "That's right. And with the larger part of the Resistance forces still in orbit somewhere, off hiding," she said with a wave of her hand, "the Jedi won't be fully protected from attack. Organa sent her to her death."

"Let's hope," he said with a quick quirk of his brow in satisfaction.

"Let's hope indeed. She's to check in with me when she arrives on planet. I'll give you more updates as I receive them."

"Excellent." He was truly beginning to appreciate the partnership he'd formed with the duplicitous Senator. It was really starting to show the bearing of fruit.

"One last thing before I go," she said. "I'm holding a banquet to celebrate the new partnership between the First Order and the Senate. It'll be a chance to announce things to the Galaxy, the fall of the New Republic and all that. I'd be pleased if you could join us."

Showmanship had its uses, his father had always told him. The public needed to see things so that they had a concrete form, so that they had to face reality. "I'll be there. Send the details to my datapad."

She nodded her head with a small, tidy little grin of self-satisfaction. "Pleasure speaking with you, Armitage."

"And you, Carise."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Star Wars: Division

I cannot apologize enough for the _huge_ delay in Chapter Fourteen's release. Last chapter I mentioned in the opening blurb that I was sick and dealing with some head cold/sinus problems. Well - they just about knocked me down dead the past month; I was having so many headaches, chest congestion, body aches - you name it. It was like having the flu and bronchitis, and I was barely able to get out of bed let alone write up the chapter. Sorry guys. I never expected to get so sick and have such a huge derailment from my posting schedule. I feel awful about it, really. Thanks for the messages, though; it was really great seeing them while I was feeling ill.

 **Chapter Fourteen**

"Get down!"

With an instinct that was being progressively honed and sharpened by battle after battle, Rey immediately dropped to the ground when she heard the call without a moment of hesitation. Overhead, the tell-tale whistle of an artillery round soared through the air, and then came to rest with its usual explosive finish somewhere to her right. Grit and rocks went flying upwards, as well as a couple of bodies of the native rebels who had been unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their screams were muffled amidst the rest of the cacophony of battle, but she felt their sparks of pain and death through the Force, tugging at her as if her entire body were just a web of strings for events - either good or bad - to pull on.

But there was never any time to examine how she felt things around her through the Force, or to let those things affect her, when in the middle of battle a moment's pause could mean death. With a large, fortifying inhale, she pushed herself back up to her feet and tightened the grip on her lightsaber. A line of stormtroopers had been ordered to advance after the explosives, expecting their enemy to be disoriented and injured. But the quick call from their spotter had minimized physical injuries. The disorientation, however, had definitely taken over for some of their forces; she could tell which of them had ringing ears because they kept looking left to right, desperately trying to see what they couldn't hear, or otherwise shaking their heads as if that would magically restore their eardrums. The stormtroopers, trained their entire life for combat, saw the same signs she did; they went towards the rebels that were clearly struggling to make sense of what was up and what was down.

It wasn't a moment too soon when she came between a trio of troopers, raising their blasters, and some of her comrades, who were stuck on their knees. With an angry cry, she cut across the torso of the first, and deflected the blaster fire of the second. The third, startled by her sudden arrival, changed his position to aim at her, but was quickly shot down by blaster fire from over her shoulder. She took that moment to finish off the remaining trooper with a quick stab through the chest, then turned to see how had had her back. One of the Resistance's newer members, who Rey hadn't had much chance to get to know, yet, gave her a quick wink. Then she spun left to help with another small skirmish, and Rey turned right to do the same.

The past week had been much like this - skirmishes peppered the surface of Shu-Torun as Resistance forces joined with the native rebel groups scattered in hiding across major habitable areas of the planet, and the newly fortified bands of rebels and comrades engaged the enemy. This morning, First Order reinforcements had landed on the planet, and it was those reinforcements Rey, Poe, and their group of rebels were battling now. It was difficult. The new First Order troops were fresh faced, energetic, prepared; they relieved their tired, hungry, wounded comrades who were only too happy at the chance to take a proper rest and eat a proper meal. The problem being, of course, that neither the Resistance nor the rebel natives could do the same. They just simply didn't have the numbers to afford the luxury. Like Rey, most of them were doing their best to stay focused and fighting on a meager ration of broth and tack bread, and two or three hours of sleep. Some of them sported injuries, and though they were superficial, they were still physical burdens further weighing them down; blood soaked bandages around upper arms and upper thighs were extremely common.

Rey hadn't sustained any injuries herself, but she was exerting a different kind of energy that was draining her beyond her physical limits; using the Force was wearing her down mentally. The inner exhaustion easily mirrored her outer exhaustion, but as many of the rebels looked to her as a hero and guiding light, she couldn't allow herself the reprieve of showing it. She truly believed that if she couldn't remain strong, none of them would. So, she'd stay strong. It was the only way, she knew, as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth to clear away the beading sweat and dirt. At her feet lay two bodies - a stormtrooper, and one of her own she'd been too late to save. She looked down at the rebel's face and grimaced quickly at the hole in his right eye - cauterized all the way through, right out the back of his head. His other eye stared skyward with a mixture of pain and disbelief.

Things continued like this for another hour or two, she wasn't exactly sure. Time passed in often surreal moments during battle, moments of pain and loss that were quickly strangled as one returned to the present, faced again with the knowledge their own life could be ended just as quickly. There was never time to mourn. That had to be pushed away. It was only now, when the First Order had been kept at bay and their forces had been able to hold their position, that Rey watched the faces of those who had lost loved ones crumble, the emotion they'd forced down suddenly rising up to overwhelm them. She never knew what to say, so she opted to say nothing, offering nods and sorrowful looks whenever a suffering member caught her eye. What could anyone say? Words simply weren't enough in times like these.

Overhead, the roar of X-Wing engines deafened the skies as the squadron came in for a landing at the impromptu fuel stations that had been set up alongside the rebel encampment. As ever, while most of the pilots slowly climbed from their cockpits, looking haggard and weary, Poe and BB-8 came bursting from their fighter, all adrenaline and cocky smiles. Well, in BB-8's case, cocky beeps and _whirrs_.

"Did you see us, buddy," Poe was saying as he climbed down the ladder from his cockpit. "Aw, man, nothing gets the blood pumping like a good air fight!"

BB-8 rolled himself forward and backward with excitement, beeps firing off in quick succession.

"Yeah, good thinking on that one," Poe said with a nod. "I'll have to keep that in mind for next time."

By the sound of his friend's beeping, BB-8 was in agreement.

When he was finished un-suiting - his helmet, gloves, and other outer equipment were left on a stand near his plane - Poe headed Rey's way, the usual lopsided grin stuck to his stubbled face.

"Hey, how was the fightin' out there?" He pointed with his chin to the terrain at large just beyond the line of their camp.

"Good," she said with a small smile. "I mean, even with the reinforcements, I think we did all right. They had to retreat after the bomber arrived."

"Yeah, that was a good stroke of luck, that was," he said nodding, then quickly gulped down the water she'd offered him.

"There were casualties," she said with a heavy undertone, "but I guess war makes it impossible not to lose people."

Poe looked down at her, hearing the disillusionment and sorrow in her voice and feeling sympathetic for the innocence he knew she was fast losing out on the battlefield, where violence and pain and suffering were just the every day routine. Rey was young, still; sure, she was a strong fighter, and she was a good Jedi, and she had been dealt a hard knocks fate in life that had left her an orphan and a slave on a desolate, nothing planet. But that didn't mean it had stripped away all her innocence, and all her hope. It was getting stripped away now, though, in the throes of war. He remembered his early days as a pilot - as a Resistance fighter - how seeing men and women spiral to their deaths in the cold vacuum of space as their fighters spun out of control from engine combustion or burst pressure valves had quickly torn away whatever wide-eyed heroic aspirations he'd had. It didn't mean he'd given up on the romantic notions of heroism and bravery, but he certainly had come to understand the value of a life.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. As if the weight of war wasn't enough, Rey carried so much more than the rest of them. Several times he'd spied her training, off in corners and alcoves that were far removed from the others, working for hours at a time. Occasionally he caught her reading from some very old, very dusty books. And still other times she seemed to be coming out of a trance, as if her mind had been cast out into the Galaxy and had left her body behind. He wasn't an expert on Jedi matters, or Force-user matters, but he could certainly see it was a lot for one person to shoulder. And unlike the other Resistance or rebel fighters, who shared their experiences with friends and had an understanding of each other's pain, Rey did not have another Force-user to confide in. Perhaps aboard the _Radiance_ she had been able to speak with Leia, but here on the ground there was just her - the lone Jedi hero.

BB-8 came to a stop at Rey's feet and beeped sadly.

She flashed a quick smile. "I'm all right, BB-8, thanks."

Poe exchanged a quick glance with his droid, before giving her another squeeze. "Why don't we relax a bit with some cards? You've still got a lot of tricks to show me."

Well, she supposed it was better than sitting on a crate, wallowing. "Yeah, okay." She stood, but then turned quickly and gave him a playful poke to the chest. "But bring the good stuff."

Poe gave a pilot's salute with his fingers touching his forehead. "Yes ma'am."

She followed after him to the small space that had been set aside as a common area. It was mostly just a space with a couple tables and chairs and was separated from the sleeping quarters by blue tarp. Not the least bit glamorous. It was certainly a change up from the cool silver walls of the common room aboard the _Radiance_ , a space about ten times larger with refined, modern furniture, and a half-wall of windows that looked out into the starlit expanse of space.

Something bothered her. It was sort of like having an itch at the base of her neck, except it was underneath the skin. She tilted her head to the side in the same way people do when trying to clear water from their ears, attempting to twitch it away, but it persisted. It made her feel queasy, sort of disorienting like feeling a ship blast off into space for the first time. It had that same unexpected quality of feeling one's stomach plummet to their feet while velocity forced them back into their seat. But Rey had been weaving and moving between ships her entire life, sometimes hanging upside down to acquire parts, sometimes having to hold herself sideways, and she had never once known herself to have a weak stomach, or motion sickness. Something just didn't feel right, though; she couldn't shake it.

"Rey," Poe questioned beside her.

"Hm?" She said, distracted.

Poe smiled a little, recognizing her faraway look. She often wore it. "Thinking," he said.

"Ah," she was startled from her thoughts. "Yeah, a little. Sorry."

"Nah, don't be. There's a lot to think about for someone like you, I'm sure."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Someone like me?"

"Yeah, the last Jedi and all? I know you're training. I see you sometimes. It must be pretty difficult juggling everything on your plate."

She shrugged ruefully. "You could say that."

"Well, hey," he said, giving her shoulder a playful, but intimate bump. "I'm always around if you need to talk, you know?"

She smiled at him, full on smiled. "I appreciate that. Thanks."

He had a soft look in his eye. "Yeah, sure. Anytime."

They reached the common area and Rey went immediately to a small box they kept up against the side of the rock face that was the mountain where the mines were built. Poe pulled out the drink. They were at the table with drinks poured and cards shuffled, just about ready to begin, Poe all laughs as he commented on the last time they'd played and Rey had schooled him worse than any card shark he'd ever met, when Finn came bustling into the area with food.

"Hey, they're passing out rations now," he said, throwing a gesture over his shoulder, his thumb pointing in the direction he'd come from. "You two better get over there before it runs out."

"How'd we miss that," Poe asked, giving Rey a look of confusion.

She shrugged. "I don't know, but we better do as Finn says. Come on," and she rose from the table.

But she nearly tripped when Finn suddenly exclaimed, "Rey!," rather angrily and jumped up from his own seat. He drew level with her and placed a hand on her right shoulder, she supposed to keep her steady, while he examined a spot on the left side of her back. There in the faded grey of her tunic was a slash some good seven inches long. The edges of the rip in her tunic were stained dark red with blood. It was a cut from one of the natives, but not the ones the Resistance were supporting. Some of the Shu-Torun had sided with the First Order, just as they had at one time sided with the Empire. The ore-dukes of old were back to their old, treasonous ways, defying their Queen's wishes. They didn't use blasters like the First Order, and instead opted for more old-school weaponry. One must've caught her across the shoulder when she wasn't looking.

"Do you know you've got a nice gash back here," Finn asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

She twisted to try and get a look at it over her shoulder, but the gash was just beyond her eyesight. "No," she said in mild surprise.

"Adrenaline numbs the pain," Poe quipped, taking a peek at the wound himself. "Honestly, it's not deep. But you'll want to get patched up real quick."

She didn't see what the big deal was, but seeing as they were both pressuring her to hurry along to the med-bay with their stares, she gave a shrug and a nod and said, "Okay. I'll head over."

"It shouldn't take long. I'll grab your portion and meet you back here, all right," Poe said.

"Sure," she agreed. And they went their separate ways.

As she headed for the only properly erected tent in the area - because the medical station was by far the most important, and needed to be the most organized and clean - she gave her left shoulder several experimental wiggles, moving it up and down and up again in an odd half-shrug. It didn't even sting. It really couldn't be that deep if she wasn't feeling it while moving her arm, but then again Poe could be right, and the remaining adrenaline in her blood could be keeping the nerves dulled. If Finn hadn't noticed, she may have started to feel the ache while sitting down to cards, but all the same at least it would get dealt with now. Like Poe said, it shouldn't take long to do a quick stitch up.

She entered the tent and the attending medical personnel quickly turned to her. The doctor was looking frazzled, to say the least. All the cots in the tent were full; Resistance members and native rebels alike groaned and ached as they lay in their meager beds from their various ailments. _Of course_ , she thought while biting her lower lip. _The injured from the battle_. She didn't want to take up the doctor's time when he and his two assistants were already scrambling between their current patients, trying to assess damages and provide relief.

"Can I help you," the doctor barked. Rey knew he was normally a good-mannered person; it was the stress making him grumpy and irritable.

"Ah, yes, I just have a minor cut," she said, pointing over her shoulder. "I can come back. It's not a big deal."

The doctor shuffled over and gripped her back similar to the way Finn had. "Not too serious," he mumbled, "but it should be cleaned and stitched up before it gets infected. One of the med droids can do it easily enough." He whistled and, sure enough, a med droid answered the summons and came over. "Clean the wound and administer stitches," he advised the droid.

"Right away, doctor," came the droid's mild-mannered reply.

"But do it outside," the doctor said as he hurried away, back to the patient he'd been standing over when she'd first walked in. "It's too crowded in here."

"Yes, doctor," the droid said. The droid gestured to the tent opening, "After you, Miss."

Rey exited the tent, and the droid followed. It walked around to the back of the tent, where there was a clear view of the landscape, and also where it was completely hidden from the rest of the camp. She supposed it was for privacy. The table, tray, and chairs already waiting behind the tent told her the medical staff had already needed to use the space when other battles had left the tent crowded. That or they used the space to take breaks. Or both.

"Please sit down, Miss."

She sat and removed her tunic vest.

"Oh, it looks all right," said the mild-mannered voice of the droid behind her. She'd turned her back to it so it could get a good look. "Let me begin cleaning it." And then she felt the distinctly cold sensation of liquid being applied to her skin, which was still rather warm from the physical exertion of battle. Oddly enough, it didn't even sting, then. She must be so preoccupied with other things that some small cut was the least of her problems.

Like the nausea feeling, the itch. That was certainly preoccupying her. Why wouldn't it go away? What did it mean? It was a bad feeling, plain and simple. The feeling one gets when they're expecting something bad to happen. Just - pit in the gut. But the battle was over. There was no more fighting. Most of the time when she had ill feelings it was because she was sensing oncoming attacks through the Force, or oncoming blaster fire. But everything was so still and peaceful, now. And they'd pushed back the First Order. What could she be sensing, she wondered in mild irritation as she rubbed at her temples to try and dispel the nausea.

Though the wound itself wasn't sore, she did feel the needle prick her skin as the droid began sewing her up the old fashioned way. But as was usual with med droids, its programming kept it very gentle and mild and polite, and that extended to its sewing technique; it wasn't hasty, as it wove the strong sutures through her skin, and it didn't pull or yank. It was careful, methodical, and calculated each stitch so that they were in an even line. "All done," it chimed as it finished the final loop and then made a careful, precise knot at the end. It trimmed off the excess thread.

"Thanks," Rey said.

"Oh dear," it said. "It appears in the rush from the medical tent, I forgot to grab an appropriate bandage. Please wait one moment, Miss. I'll go get one and be right back."

"Of course," she said, flashing the droid a quick smile.

She heard it slowly shuffle away, its metal 'feet' causing the gravel of the earth to scrape. As expected from a planet whose main source of economy was mining, Shu-Torun's landscape was volcanic, the soil rich in minerals and, of course, metals. It had the kind of grit she'd always associated with Jakku, but instead of the never ending sand dunes and blistering heat, Shu-Torun had mountainous hills and craggy formations that dotted much of its surface. And while Jakku was largely one-note with its vast sea of beige sand, Shu-Torun's soil was dark due to its enriched nature. Dispersed amongst the rock formations were often volcanic lines, where the molten rock flowed freely down the hills and mountains, burning clear pathways as it patiently oozed in bright reds and oranges and yellows. It was this constant flow of lava that kept the rest of the planet bursting with useful material. The minerals and metal particles in the lava cooled and joined with the soil, and then the natives mined it and created fortified, desirable chunks of ore.

Rey looked up, squinting at the horizon. There seemed to be something close by, but nothing looked amiss. The itch at the base of her neck had become so unpleasant she had to roll her neck backwards in an attempt to shake it off. The Force wanted to tell her something, but she didn't know what. Could it be…?

 _Kylo_ , she thought suddenly. Was he… trying to reach out to her? Their connection had been flimsy at best after the destruction of the _Redeemer_ , and for good reason, of course. She wasn't sure how she felt about that whole tragedy, let alone the moment they'd then shared on the battlefield. There was a growing ache within Kylo Ren, one she felt steadily more and more through the Force, and it thrilled her. And that scared her. For the past week she'd had to survive training sessions with Master Skywalker, ever fearful he was going to see right through her and uncover her dirty, dark secrets. It was getting so difficult to hide, and not just from him. The number of near misses she'd had when her friends came looking for her made her shudder; there had been so many chances for her to get caught.

Get caught. As if she were just a rebellious teenager. What she was doing was nothing short of betrayal.

She hung her head. Maybe the itch was simply exhaustion. Maybe her mind and body were finally giving way under the pressure. _You don't have that luxury, though_ , she admonished herself. It was her job to keep fighting. Rest could come later.

The only warning she'd gotten was the smallest shift in a volcanic pebble near the assassin's feet before it came dashing at her from behind a nearby rock, blade raised. Battle had certainly honed her reflexes, as she had time to grab her lightsaber and raise it to catch the assassin's blade, but caught off guard, her mind racing with guilt, she had forgotten to ignite the blade, so that in her clenched fist was merely the lightsaber hilt and nothing more. The assassin's blade cut through the air, but instead of cleaving her down the middle as she was expecting, the assassin flipped their wrist at the last second so the flat of the blade touched the bare skin just above her chest wrap. Just the touch of the blade to skin was enough.

With an agonized yell, she fell from the chair, writhing on the ground as the assassin cruelly pressed the blade further into her skin. She was a cruel killer, it was so. Her blade was the perfect extension of her philosophy, as it helped her realize the distinct satisfaction she got from watching her target squirm and screech in pain. She was not the emotionless, calculated sort who killed the mark quickly and took their reward. No. Every kill was personal to her, every mark needed to suffer before they died. And this? This was a Jedi. This girl could suffer for eternity, her pretty mouth screaming for eons, and it still wouldn't be enough.

The assassin lifted the blade, and the agony that had so suddenly pierced Rey's entire being stopped, leaving her a panting, quivering mess on the ground.

For the assassin, this was the sweetest part. The part in which her victim thought the suffering was over, when the relief was so good it brought them back from the sheer insanity of having to endure such torment. The Jedi was strong and resilient; she opened her eyes to gaze at her attacker, even as her muscles still convulsed. But that was good. Resilient ones were always so much more enjoyable to torture than the weaklings who were reduced to bumbling, crying, mewling piles of flesh. This was going to be good.

She pressed the smooth side of her blade to the Jedi's skin once more.

It was like existing in a constant nightmare. Rey knew nothing else but the pain. The horrible, festering pain that seized her muscles and deadened her brain.

"Miss?" came the confused, gentle voice of the med droid.

The assassin spun and cursed in her native tongue; it wasn't just the med droid who had noticed. Several others were beginning to search for the source of the terrible screams. With a quick flash of movement, she lunged at the Jedi and cut clear across her chest, from shoulder to shoulder, then spun and disappeared.

Rey continued to the scream, though the blade no longer touched her.

"What the hell is going on," yelled the rebel Commander. He looked down at Rey's shrieking, writhing form and paused, completely unsure of what he was seeing.

The med droid approached the Commander. "She was attacked," it said with its usual calm, relaxing cadence. "She was attacked by an assassin with a Devaronian edge."

 **Aboard the Finalizer:**

"Excellent," Armitage Hux said with a sideways, smug grin. "If the assassin can attack her in the middle of the battle, no one will be the wiser as to what happened."

"Precisely," Carise Sindian purred from her purple velvet chaise lounge. "She'll report back to me once the job is complete."

"Brilliant. Then," Hux said with a sly smile, "I'll see you in three cycles' time for the banquet."

"Yes, darling," she cooed. "See you then."

They ended the comm-link.

Once Hux finished up their personal business, he made his way to the bridge. He was due to meet with the First Order's revered Supreme Leader to discuss the elimination of the _Radiance_ , which had become the new flagship for the Resistance and which contained Ren's ever meddlesome, despicable mother - General Organa.

The doors to the bridge opened and he walked in, hands clasped austerely behind his back.

At the helm, standing in his usual all black with his shining, black helmet, Kylo Ren didn't make the slightest movement but said half-robotically, "You're late."

"Yes, forgive me Supreme Leader. I had some matters to finish up."

"Matters concerning the First Order," he questioned without turning.

"Personal matters, Sir," he said evenly, "regarding my mother."

If Kylo Ren sensed it was a lie, he made no indication, but turned around and moved towards the holo-display in the center of the bridge which was broadcasting a map of the Galaxy. "What is our progress on finding the remaining Republic forces?"

They ran through the data that had been compiled. They discussed the politics of the Senate and the unrest some of the planets were experiencing now that it was becoming very clear to the public at large that the Republic as they knew it had fallen, and the First Order was poised to take over. As always, Kylo Ren showed his agitation at having to discuss public image and politics, but he acquiesced many points to Hux's counsel of advisers, who had mapped out a strategy for appeasing the planets before there was mass hysteria. Then, there was the matter of Shu-Torun - another ever-present irritation that Hux was certainly eager to get rid of. Kylo Ren felt the same.

"What updates from the battlefield? And from the reinforcements," Kylo Ren asked as the holographic image of the planet came up on the grid.

"Reports are coming in now, Supreme Leader," said a communications officer tapping away at their screen. "It appears an initial altercation with the South-west camp has ended. Casualties on both sides, but a bomber unit under rebel control arrived and pushed our forces back."

 _A bomber unit_ , Kylo Ren thought as his hands gripped the edge of the display. The South-west camp was where _she_ was located. "Why were our forces unable to shoot it down?"

"It was heavily guarded, and Resistance fighters made getting near it impossible. Further South, our forces did manage to overtake a - "

Kylo Ren stood and turned back to the windows that opened up to the twilight of the Galaxy. As the officer continued to report the status of First Order forces across Shu-Torun, he let his mind wander to Rey. She was upset because of the _Redeemer_. Perhaps that was why she'd gone to the mining planet - to try and prove herself to be the hero the Resistance and the Republic needed. Perhaps she was feeling inadequate and guilty, though the loss of the _Redeemer_ was hardly her fault, and it hadn't been in her power to save it. Still, what worried him more was her mental exhaustion; constant battle was taking its toll, and using the Force regularly even more so. She was still learning, still training, and yet she was pushing herself and her abilities to the heights of which no Padawan would ever be able to accomplish safely. She was going to wear herself thin. It was her mental exhaustion that kept them apart, not her resentment. He knew that. She wasn't petty or vindictive. She would never shut him out willingly.

"We'll need to send another full squadron of TIE fighters to Shu-Torun. The bomber must be destroyed," he said firmly.

"Yes, Supreme Leader. I will contact the Fleet and choose the optimal squadron."

"See that you do," he intoned gravely.

He paused - sensing… something. Something was wrong.

And then without any other warning his heart felt ready to burst from his chest. Pain. Pain. Endless pain. It echoed to him through the Force. _Rey_. She was being tortured. Tortured? On Shu-Torun? By whom? He may not know by whom, but he could certainly guess the person - or _people_ \- responsible. It was his all-consuming rage that kept the pain being fed to him through the Force from making him double over. Instead, he reached out a clawed hand and summoned his General directly into his grip. Hux immediately sputtered as the grip tightened on his throat. "What have you done," he hissed with menace.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Star Wars: Division

Roacharoo and jezie: Thanks for the messages and well wishes! Also, jezie, please take care and get well soon.

MortyM: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

onyxpass: Yeah, I like a more natural, slow progression. I understand it's a fanfiction, so obviously it doesn't have to adhere to the world it comes from, but for me that's a really important part of my story. I want it to be authentic to the Star Wars world, and more importantly I want it to stay true to the characters, especially Rey and Kylo Ren. Which is why I'm not going to rush into anything; they're on two opposite sides of a war, usually on opposite sides of the Galaxy. It's going to take a long time for them to figure things out. I'm glad it's giving you the slow burn you crave.

Chapter Fifteen

"S-s-sup-preme - L - " Hux's attempt at addressing the man choking him was cut off as he hacked.

It would've been nice to watch Hux struggle some more, with that lurid purple color all over his face, but unfortunately the downside to Force choking someone was they couldn't speak, and in this moment what Kylo Ren wanted more than anything was information.

"What have you _done_ , General," he said menacingly as he released the struggling officer and watched him fall to the floor in a useless heap.

Hux held his throat as he had done many times before while drool oozed lazily out the corner of his mouth. It was a humiliation he had suffered many times, and yet every occurrence bruised his ego equally. He'd never get used to having his entire retinue of underlings watch him struggle with spit bubbling out of his mouth, like some kind of mindless buffoon. Snoke may have used the Force choke maneuver liberally as well, but at least he usually used it behind closed doors, in the throne room. Kylo Ren used it whenever the occasion struck him, and Hux also supposed his nemesis took even greater pleasure in doing it before the crew.

"For-forgive me," he sputtered a second and rubbed his throat. _Goddamn him_ , he thought spitefully. "Forgive me, Supreme Leader." He made a noise similar to clearing his throat; he didn't rise from the floor, however, because he felt a show of subservience would serve him best. "The Jedi is the Resistance's greatest weapon. My goal was only to eliminate her."

The surrounding personnel all craned their necks to get a better look at the altercation as it unfolded. They had no idea what was going on, but the mention of the Jedi piqued everyone's interest. Kylo Ren was acutely aware that they were waiting to see how things played out; rumors had been circulating on the _Finalizer_ for weeks about their Supreme Leader's weakness for the Jedi girl, and if that meant he had been secretly working for his mother the entire time. Of course, many of the seasoned officers chalked it up to greenie-gossip - nothing better for soldiers to do than spread around stories that added some intrigue and spice to the mundane operations of working on a ship day in and day out, floating through space. Still, Kylo Ren's actions and words could easily add fuel to the gossip, and gossip with a factual basis was dangerous indeed. It could sway his soldiers' opinions against him. It could make the beginnings of a _coup_. He couldn't give them, or Hux, any ammunition.

"I see. Why did you act without consulting me?" He clasped his hands behind his back and tried to adopt a more austere approach, though the blood in his veins was alight with fury.

"Senator Sindian and I acted together in an attempt to both surprise and please you." He had to implicate her, though she may not appreciate it at first, but making the two of them look more like allied loyalists who wanted to do something good for their Supreme Leader and the First Order was a far better image than revealing them to be the co-conspirators they truly were. He needed the personnel witnessing the scene to empathize.

"Senator Sindian," he replied lowly. It was hardly a shock. He had known about the two of them and their scheming. "Get her on-line," he told the communications officer.

"Immediately," the man replied, his hand shaking nervously, as he sent out the signal to the Senator's comm-link.

"Supreme Leader," Carise said with a neat bow only moments later. "To what do I owe - " she faltered when she took in the scene before her - the entire bridge barely glanced up from their screens, scared and anxious, with Hux down on his knees at Ren's feet. "Supreme Leader," she questioned.

She had tried to hide the tick in her jaw by clamping it shut with a deferential smile, but Kylo Ren saw it all the same. Good. She should be worried.

"It has come to my attention, Senator, that you and my General made plans behind my back to assassinate the Jedi on Shu-Torun."

She frantically searched Hux's face, perhaps to get some indication of just how much Kylo Ren had found out, how much of the truth he knew, and then turned her gaze back to him. "I assure you, Supreme Leader, we had your best interests at heart. Wouldn't it be prudent to eliminate the Jedi as soon as possible? She is Organa's strongest ally, after all. Since her appearance in the war, she has caused nothing but trouble for the First Order."

He had anticipated this kind of response, of course. They would try to make it look like a plan they'd devised all in his name, and do their best to appease his anger. But he didn't want them off the hook so easily. No. He needed to continue to cast doubt on them, especially Hux, who he knew was rallying officers to him in order to overthrow his reign. "Well, if either of you had had the sense to consult me, you'd have discovered the Jedi is in fact my apprentice."

There were several moments of silence. It was definitely not beyond possibility that what he said was true, and the personnel on the bridge all took a moment to mull that over. If she was his apprentice, and they had conspired to kill her, then the Senator and the General could easily be seen as insubordinate. Certainly, if Kylo Ren had been second-in-command to Supreme Leader Snoke, without having any kind of military pedigree or rank, then this Jedi would hold the same position as Kylo Ren's apprentice. Though the two had bickered, Hux had never been able to directly challenge Kylo Ren. But surely trying to assassinate the Jedi was as direct a challenge one could get.

"Y-your… apprentice?" Sindian questioned faintly. She was clearly stunned into speechlessness.

Hux, however, was actually irritated by the news. He raised his head, a look of contempt distorting his features. What a pathetic lie! "How could she possibly be your apprentice," he all but spit out in aggravation. He could not let Kylo Ren win this round. It was too important to his image. "The Jedi has done nothing but stymie our efforts every chance she's had! And do I need to remind you she killed our Supreme Leader!" Disbelief and anger drove him to his feet. "How could she be your - "

The General's display was quite enough. His own rage came spilling out from beyond the confines of his control as he _pushed_ the red-head back to the ground and put him on his knees. "She is _mine_ , you meddlesome idiots!" His voice was distinctly violent as it was processed through the modulator of his helmet. "My apprentice! You could've killed one of the most powerful Force-users in the Galaxy because of your short-sightedness and paranoia!" He slammed his hand down. "Fools!" Heavy breathing came filtered through the helmet. "Are you trying to weaken me?" he accused them darkly.

The assembled officers and military personnel nervously glanced at each other, some shifting from foot to foot. Weakening the Supreme Leader? High treason - punishable by death.

"No, no, no!" Sindian cried hastily, quick to reconcile the relationship between the three of them. "Of course not, Supreme Leader. We merely wanted to serve the First Order. It's as you say, we were short-sighted and paranoid. We didn't stop to consider our clever Supreme Leader would already have matters so well in hand."

He straightened. Hux and Carise were making fools of themselves. It was a sight. "Hux," he said, looking down at the form of his General.

The pure hatred that radiated off Armitage was as hot as any heat wave on Tatooine, but with Carise staring daggers at him, all but ordering him to comply, Hux had no other choice but feign ignorance on the matter like a poor sap. "Our apologies, Supreme Leader," he said stiffly, his head cast down. "Our aim is, and will always be, to see the First Order succeed."

"Only the First Order," Kylo Ren questioned.

"And of course you, Supreme Leader."

He reveled in watching the two of them squirm, and come to the realization that he was much more than they'd ever expected him to be. Especially Hux. For so long Hux had seen him as nothing more than Snoke's play thing, witless and ruled by his emotions, completely unfit to navigate the mire of politics a leadership role brought to said leader's feet. But Kylo Ren was proving to be a much more complicated adversary than first thought.

"It's true," he said to the bridge at large, "she did kill Supreme Leader Snoke, but only as a Sith initiation, to prove her worth as my apprentice. Snoke was weak, and so he was culled. For the First Order to really succeed, it needed a new, stronger leader, and I will continue to serve as that leader to realize our aims." There was no point shying away from the topic, since Hux had brought it up. If he glossed over Hux's outburst without addressing his claims, it would only make everyone on board suspicious, and he had plenty of suspicions cast on him and his reign as it was. But the lie was an easy one to believe, and so very difficult to prove false, as the only two people alive who truly knew what happened on the _Supremacy_ were himself and her.

"Call off your assassins, Senator," he said, turning back to the woman on the screen. "And don't let me catch you doing something so foolish again, or your punishment will be far worse than simply losing your Senate seat."

She drew herself up, ready to argue that he didn't have the power to remove her from the Senate, but her bravado quickly deflated and she dipped her head in obedience. "Yes, Supreme Leader."

"Get a transport ready to set course for Shu-Torun loaded with a full battalion," Kylo Ren said to the nearest underling. Then he looked back at the two traitors, still in mild shock from having their plot so quickly - and publicly - revealed. "I have to see if I can fix the mess these two have made." Then he turned on his heel and left the bridge with the entire crew staring as the doors closed on his back.

No one noticed the brief moment of eye contact between the co-conspirators before Hux closed the comm-link.

"A Devaronian edge," repeated the Shu-Torun Commander.

"Precisely," said the med droid.

"How do we help her," yelled Poe with a frantic look. He'd arrived on the scene only moments ago, and since he'd been standing there Rey hadn't stopped screaming like a banshee. He watched her twist in pain, her body contorting in odd, uncomfortable ways; blood ran down her front from the large cut the assassin had administered before fleeing. No one wanted to get close to her, too afraid and unsure.

The doctor came running from the med tent with a needle in hand. "Hold her down," he said to no one in particular, but like any leader just expected his order to be followed. It was. Finn, Poe, and a couple of their Shu-Torun comrades stepped forward and each took a limb, holding her flailing body down so the doctor could find a good vein in her arm and deliver the contents of his needle. It wasn't immediate, but after about a minute, Rey's screaming died down to mere mumbling, and her body no longer convulsed. Instead, she would occasionally fidget, but nothing more.

"She'll need to be sedated on a regular basis, in order to keep her from feeling the torture of the blade," said the doctor, staring down at her now calm form on the ground. "Let's move her into the tent, tend to that gash, and see if we have anything that can read for blood poisoning."

"Blood poisoning," Poe said as he drew level with the doctor.

With his hands on his hips, the doctor nodded. "A Devaronian edge is a nasty business. Not only is the mere touch of the blade to skin pure agony, but if cut by the blade there's a chance of it delivering toxins into the blood."

"But - " Poe said weakly, and turned to look down at Rey.

The doctor clapped a hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll get her on her feet again. If she is poisoned, it doesn't appear fatal, and that's the best news we could get."

"Well, how do I help - " Poe began, but the doctor stopped him.

"Let me do my job, pilot. And you keep doing yours. All right?"

Poe nodded. Swallowed. His mouth, his throat - everything felt dry. And he felt useless. They'd sent her - alone - to the med tent, completely unprotected, and all but handed her over to the assassin. When his eyes met Finn's he could see they were thinking the same thing. How could they be so careless? And what was he going to tell Leia? Perhaps she'd be able to make a pass by Shu-Torun to pick Rey up; she deserved a fully functional medical station, complete with only the best technology and equipment. Having their most important soldier getting treated in a tent just seemed so pathetic. He watched, numb, as two med droids transferred her onto a makeshift gurney and carried her around to the front of the tent, then slipped inside. The doctor gave him a firm nod before disappearing behind the tent flap, too.

"We have to tell Leia," said Finn, gripping Poe's forearm. "Rey needs the _Radiance's_ med bay."

Poe looked at his friend. "That's just what I was thinking. Let's go."

 **Then:**

"It can't be helped, Poe," said Leia heavily. "There's just no way. But like I said, I can send a transport ship to pick her up and bring her back."

Poe stared at the image of Leia with a mixture of shock, frustration, and disappointment. Here was his General - someone he'd been following for years - telling him she wasn't going to be able to rendezvous at Shu-Torun to receive Rey because it was too dangerous to move their ships after having settled in a new headquarters that needed time to be set up and prepared. A transport? What kind of protection was a transport ship going to provide? None of the X-Wings stationed on Shu-Torun were expendable. They needed every single one to help keep First Order forces at bay, meaning not even a single one could join the transport in its journey back to the _Radiance_ to act as protection. And Leia was making it perfectly clear she would not be sending any of the X-Wings on her side to accompany the transport on its way to getting Rey. Her gaze didn't falter, even as he tried to stare some sense into her with his glare. It was unbelievable that she was going to take Rey's rescue so lightly, that she didn't look more concerned. This wasn't a common soldier - this was _Rey_.

"Don't be angry," Leia said lowly, her chin set firmly. "There's simply no other way. I can't risk our forces."

Poe leaned closer to the holo-display. "But you can risk losing Rey?"

Leia's jaw worked from side to side, but she wouldn't relent, and Poe could see that. Nothing he said, Finn said, or anyone said was going to sway her mind. She believed she was doing what was necessary as a General, as a leader. The life of one soldier was simply not worth risking the Resistance's entire operation, even if that soldier was a Jedi. She had to think of the bigger picture. She had to stay pragmatic.

Poe slammed his palm down on the table, then spun away from the image and stormed his way out of the command tent.

Moments later, both he and Finn were standing by Rey's side, arms crossed. Her face was relaxed, except for occasional twitches that would come from a sudden pain spike. It was easy to think she was just sleeping, and not in a medically induced slumber to avoid unspeakable torture.

"Usually the pain only lasts as long as the wound," the doctor was saying as he dabbed at the long gash cut across her chest, from nearly one shoulder to the next. Like the gash she'd had sutured earlier, which had fed her directly into the assassin's hands, this gash - though long - was not particularly deep, and not really the problem. "As soon as a wound from a Devaronian edge heals, the pain heals with it," he was saying, almost mumbling under his breath, as he bent over Rey's form on the table and cleaned the wound. "The problem," he said, casting his eyes up at the two men standing there with hard, firm expressions, "is if she's been poisoned."

"Is there an antidote," Finn asked. "How do we get rid of it?"

The doctor sighed. "Unfortunately," he said, straightening up, "the poison is just like a cut. If the poison isn't fatal, the body will naturally filter and heal itself of the toxin, but that takes a lot of time, and a lot of physical strength."

Poe was feeling more and more irritated as the circumstances made him feel more and more helpless. "It could take days for a wound like this," and he gestured to the cut across Rey's collar, "to heal, and in all that time she'll be in pain? And now, if she's poisoned, it'll take even longer. Weeks," he huffed.

There wasn't much else the doctor could say, so he shrugged. "Devaronian edges are nasty blades. That's how it is. But she is a Jedi, so perhaps she'll heal quicker. And," he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "if you can get her back to the _Radiance_ , the technology there should help expedite the process."

"And until she's completely healed? We just let her, her," Finn gestured about, trying to find the right words, "just let her live in pain?"

"She'll have to be sedated."

Poe and Finn exchanged a look, then stared at the doctor. "Sedated? For how long?"

The doctor sighed again. "She'll have to be sedated the entire time she's injured if you want her to avoid the infliction of the blade."

"Knock her unconscious? For days," Finn nearly yelled.

"Maybe weeks," Poe said wearily, dragging a hand down the length of his face.

"What did General Organa say," asked the doctor.

"She's going to send a transport to pick her up and take her back to the _Radiance_ ," said Finn.

"How long until it arrives?"

Poe grimaced. "Hopefully not long."

"All right, look," Finn said, gathering himself back up to a state of composure. "Let's get our things packed and ready for when the transport arrives. It'll be here before we know it," he told his friend encouragingly, gripping his shoulder.

Poe nodded, "Right, right, of course. Let's go." He turned to leave the tent, but cast one backwards glance at Rey's still form. "Keep an eye on her, doc," he said grimly, and then quickly exited.

It wasn't a jolly affair getting all their things packed up for the journey back to the main ship; they gathered up their few clothes and trinkets quietly, rolling up shirts and pants and putting them away in the stiff material of their packs. Neither of them felt particularly accomplished as friends or soldiers; how could they have so stupidly sent Rey off on her own, right to her demise? Why hadn't it occurred to either of them that Rey was an obvious target for the enemy? Of course the First Order would want her dead - she had been nothing but a nuisance, saving the Resistance over and over again from situations that should've eliminated them. Her bravery as she sought out Luke Skywalker, as she went to face Snoke, as she came to their rescue in spectacular, dramatic fashion on Crait just when they thought it was the end. And she trained, and fought, and pushed on through her mental and physical exhaustion, spurring herself onward for the greater good. And while she had their backs, they had taken her and her strength for granted. They'd completely overlooked it. They'd completely overlooked just how very important she was. And now she was paying for their carelessness - _again_.

They both were ashamed.

In silence, they made their way to the front of the camp to await the transport's arrival. For everyone else, it was business as usual, and for some reason that irritated Poe. No one else seemed bothered by Rey's state of health, though for the past week she'd been by everyone's side, fighting her heart out. But, as he'd mused about earlier, such were the effects of war. It took innocence, and it wasn't a place for emotion, and no one had the luxury to sit around and worry about Rey - whom, in honesty, none of them knew personally - when they were still trying to win their independence from the First Order. Yet, even as he knew all this to be true, out of some twisted up self-guilt, he still felt like blaming them for being so efficient and steady and unconcerned. Nobody met his gaze. It was as if they could feel his thoughts and emotions and were avoiding him.

"The cards," he said suddenly.

Finn looked up from polishing his blaster. "Hm?"

"I'll be right back. I've gotta' grab the cards." They were still on the table, in Rey's spot, where she'd left them before they'd shooed her along to the med tent. He didn't want to leave them behind.

When he returned, Shu-Torun and Resistance forces were bustling about setting up a line of defense. Poe scanned the horizon, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "What's going on," he called over the din of the activity. Cannons were being wheeled back into place, blasters were being re-loaded and tested, the directional computers for their equipment were being re-calibrated to point slightly north. It was like they were preparing for a battle.

"What's going on," he said again, loudly, when he drew level with Finn.

"Reports just came in that another First Order transport has landed. I think everyone is getting things ready to prepare for another fight. They think it's another battalion of reinforcements.

"Shit," Poe swore. The last thing he wanted was for the transport that was on its way for Rey to get caught up in a battle. If it got shot down, he'd have to radio Leia to send another, and it would only waste more time. He watched as the first TIE fighter came into orbit from space. Were First Order star destroyers here, as well? Surely, the entire fleet hadn't been re-routed to Shu-Torun. He didn't see any of the bigger ships in the sky, so perhaps the TIE fighters had been sent as an escort to the reinforcements. That, at least, was a small relief. There'd be no way in hell to get their Resistance transport to the ground, loaded with Rey, and make it past the First Order fleet to safety.

"Well," he said, shoving the cards into his pack. "We've got no other choice but to fight. That transport has to get through."

She was somewhere close by - _he could feel it_.

"Supreme Leader, to what do we owe - " began one of the stormtrooper Captains to his left.

He raised a hand to silence him. The Captain was nervous, of course. Why would the Supreme Leader come to his operation on Shu-Torun unless to berate him for making a mistake in the last encounter? Perhaps he was going to get yelled at for not destroying the bomber when he had the chance. His legs shook slightly within his armor as the Supreme Leader passed him. Silently.

Yes, she was near. And he fully intended to have her.

"When the squadron of fighters arrive, Captain, initiate combat," Kylo Ren directed to the underling. "We'll aim for the bomber when it's airborne. Any transports spotted in the air must be shot down, but not fatally. I want them disabled so that I can inspect their cargo."

"Sir," questioned the Captain. What could the Supreme Leader be looking for on transports?

Kylo Ren was no fool. They wouldn't leave Rey to get medical attention in the middle of a battlefield, where their supplies, technology, and equipment would be sub-par. No. They'd send her back to the Resistance fleet for proper care. Her injuries were too great for her to remain, if the pain he felt radiating within his own body were any indication. It was impossible to tell just what her injuries were, exactly, but certainly it was severe. Leia wouldn't risk losing her.

He turned towards the Captain. "I believe my directives were clear, Captain," came his half-robotic reply.

"Yes, Sir," he said, snapping his heels together with a salute. "Immediately." And then he was yelling over the heads of the remaining stormtroopers, while the ones from Kylo Ren's transport emptied from the ship and got in to formation.

Kylo Ren surveyed the landscape and waited to strike.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Star Wars: Division

AvalonTheLadyKiller: *gently scrapes off the floor and puts back in chair* I'm so very sorry. Haha.

FrancesOsGood: You're very welcome. Haha. Thank you for enjoying it and leaving your thoughts. I've mentioned it a few times before, so this will be repetitive (sorry!), but for me the story doesn't feel real when it gets set up to all but force scenarios in which Rey and Kylo come together. I understand that fanfiction is a format that allows fans to express their fantasies - and therefore they don't have to be cannon or 'authentic' to the original material, and that's great, really - but for me, the fantasy is basically seeing Rey and Kylo work within the realm of the authentic world of Star Wars. And so, that's what I set out to do with this story; make it a book. An official book. So, here we are, all nice and slow paced and angsty. Haha. I'm thrilled you're enjoying it.

Chapter Sixteen

There was an expanse of rocky hills between the First Order base and the makeshift rebel camp that had been erected around one of the larger mines in the area. For the most part, everything was an expanse of the dark - almost black - soil of the volcanic planet, occasionally cut by the lava flow's bright, molten colors of reds and oranges and yellows. The river flows certainly stuck out amongst the craggy landscape, as did the white armor of the stormtroopers as they rushed about, re-directing cannons and anti-airs, slowly advancing the front line as they made steady progress against the rebel forces. He was pleased. In order for him to overtake the camp and retrieve her, his forces would need to keep making headway.

He could feel her, as he always could, when they were physically closer together. It was a sort of vibration that ran through his fingertips, not as intense as a pins-and-needles type of sensation, but with the same effect. What he could sense of her mind was foggy; it was difficult to see much of anything, but a lingering memory of pain and ache and torment lay on the surface of her mind. He remembered the feeling back on the _Finalizer_ , the feeling of torture as his heart all but strained against the confines of his chest, and he curled his fist in anger. Hux, Sindian - the two scheming fools. He could no longer ignore their insidious machinations behind his back. It was time to engage them in their game of subterfuge, or else something like this could happen again, and Rey may not make it out alive the next time.

It wasn't long before the air matched the ground below. Filled with the smoke from burst fighter engines, the remnants of blaster and cannon fire, and the exhaust from fuel being burned, the sky became a dark, brooding cloud of battle, sliced through, occasionally, with the tell-tale reds and greens of bullets, and the violent combustion of planes that were spiraling out from critical damage. It was the world he knew. Certainly, the last time he'd been on land without the trappings of war happening around him, had been a long long time ago; the prissy, overly-worked modernist architecture of Coruscant's capital was a far off memory, walking with his mother along its glass pathways in the sky that connected one tall, silver skyscraper to another. When was the last time he'd seen the oranges and pinks of a Coruscant sunset? He remembered gazing out of their floor-to-ceiling windows in their luxury, Senatorial apartments, and seeing the horizon almost come to life with the ebbing of the daylight, one last burst of radiance before the sun sunk below the skyline and the neon signs of the city's nightlife took over. Yes, many a night he did that - alone. And the servant droid would come in, oh so chipper, and say, "Master Ben, what shall I have prepared for dinner tonight?"

And every time, in his head, he'd think, _It doesn't really matter_. Because it didn't. What was the point of eating at the Solo family dinner table, in all its long, polished splendor, when he would be the only one sitting there? But he'd say, invariably, one of two dishes - either his mother's favorite, or his father's, depending on his mood and who he missed more. "Excellent choice, Master Ben," the droid would chirp as cheerful as a songbird, and teeter off, leaving him there. Alone.

Nothing killed Poe Dameron more than having to turn down his X-Wing for a position on the ground, instead. But he couldn't be airborne, not this time. He was going to stay and personally guard Rey until the transport arrived, and when it did he would be the first person to hop aboard because hell if he wasn't going to take over piloting that air craft. He didn't trust anyone else to do as good of a job as him, and with all the air-fighting and anti-air cannons, it was going to be a nightmare getting off-world.

Shoulder to shoulder with Finn, they stood at the forefront of the camp to hold the line against the slowly advancing stormtroopers. Beside him, the Commander was furiously yelling orders into the communications system, trying to coordinate movements between their air units and foot soldiers. Waiting in the command tent, some few feet back from the line, was Rey, hooked up to an IV drip that was keeping her sedated. The doctor hadn't wanted to move her from medical, but Poe had argued that when the transport arrived they weren't going to have time to go running between the med-tent and the front; a quick loading, and immediate take off was their best chance. The doctor had reluctantly agreed. Poe would've taken her himself, if he had to, doctor's permission or not. Not to be belligerent, but he didn't exactly answer to the rebels of Shu-Torun, and he certainly didn't take orders from their doctor.

Then, a call signal came in. "It's a Resistance transport," said an officer at the helm of the receiver. "They've entered the atmosphere and are requesting coordinates for landing."

A Resistance transport? Poe turned towards the man. "That's the transport that's here for Rey. Direct them to the landing pad right there," and he pointed to an open area of grey concrete that was within running distance of their camp's front line. It was out in the open, which made it a risky distance to cross, but it should only take Finn and himself a few minutes to run across the gap, even carrying Rey. And as the transport couldn't possibly land directly in the camp itself, it was their best option.

"Copy that," said the officer, and then he relayed the landing pad's coordinates to the transport.

"Understood," said a voice from the other end of the comm link.

The pilot looked up and scanned the skies; he couldn't see the transport, yet. Either it wasn't low enough in the atmosphere to be seen from the ground, or it had taken an indirect entrance route in order to avoid all the dog-fighting. He figured it was the latter because the skies over their camp were looking grim and impossible to penetrate. They needed their forces to get a better grip on the air battle, but it was a difficult thing to do with their forces outnumbered due to the arrival of the TIEs with the First Order transport. The transport had also brought in a new battalion, making them outnumbered on the ground, too. They'd gone from roughly equal numbers and the ability to hold their line and keep the First Order at bay only hours ago, to just about ready to bend under their sudden swell of forces. It was a strong battalion, too, a well-trained, higher-class of stormtroopers. It was the kind of unit that came with generals.

"Hux," Poe whispered aloud, wondering. The arrival of Hux would be bad news - bad news indeed. He couldn't begin to guess why the General would be sent to help win over the mining planet, but he certainly didn't like the idea of the red-head's presence on-world. And the thought of him getting wind of an injured Rey was even more unpleasant. That transport needed to land - fast.

"We've got a problem," came a frantic call over the comm receiver.

The officer manning the station pressed the talk-button. "What is it?"

"There's too much fire," the pilot was saying anxiously into the comm. "I don't know if I can land her! I may need to circle around again! I'm afraid of getting too close and taking heavy fire. Order your planes onto our flanks so we can get in!"

"Copy that," said the officer, and he quickly gave out instructions over the link to their X-Wing squadron. The fighters were deeply engaged in battle, though. All of them responded negative on being able to peel away to aide the transport.

"Our forces are dead locked," said the officer.

"Then I can't land her," came the stressed - and agitated - voice of the Resistance pilot.

Poe recognized that voice. "Mace," he all but yelled into the comm after ripping it right from the communications officer's hand, "you land that goddamned transport before I come up there and do it myself!"

"Poe," came her uncertain voice from the other end. "Is that you?"

"That's right," he huffed. "Land. That. Transport," he said through grit teeth, enunciating each word. "I don't care what you have to do. Circle around and find an opening and then you take it!"

"Yes, Sir," she responded. Finn was relieved to hear more confidence in her voice. Above, the transport had entered their line of sight, and was gaining altitude so it could make a lap around the battle and then try to find a way in, as Poe had instructed.

The Commander clapped Poe on the shoulder, "Don't worry, friend. The bomber is airborne. First Order fighters will peel off our forces to take it down, I'm sure of it. It'll help open up the skies. The transport will find its way in."

"Good," Poe said with a firm nod. "Thank you."

"The bomber! Concentrate fire!" Yelled a First Order Captain on the other end of the battle.

"Shoot 'em down!" Commanded the squadron leader, as the X-Wings re-gained a semblance of a defensive formation and went to the bomber's aide.

"Sir," the stormtrooper saluted smartly a step behind Kylo Ren as he surveyed the battle at large. "A Resistance transport has entered the area. It looks like it's trying to land."

"Shoot to disable," he said tightly. They were not going to get her off-world.

Things in the sky were quickly escalating. The arrival of the bomber changed the entire face of the fight; while rebel and Resistance forces switched to defense and stuck close to the bomber, the TIE fighters were in all out attack mode, doing their damnedest to breach their enemy's line of defense. The Resistance had been prepared, knowing full well the bomber would become the primary focus once it got airborne, and therefore weren't panicked. Instead, the panic came when a unit of five TIE fighters, which had only just arrived in squad formation to begin adding their numbers to the attack effort on the bomber, suddenly switched directions, again, and instead went en route to the transport, which had just found a hole big enough to squeeze through while the First Order fighters were distracted.

From the ground, Poe watched several fighter planes pull off the bomber and instead target the transport as it came out of the lower atmosphere. Poe couldn't understand why First Order forces would find the transport important enough to focus on - especially with the bomber just arriving on the field - but regardless, their own planes needed to peel them off or else the entire mission to get Rey out would be a momentary bust. "Get those TIEs off the transport," he said. "Five of you. Now!"

The Commander wasn't happy with the order. "We need as many planes as we can defending that bomber. Five is too many! I know you want that transport on the ground, but we can't lose our bomber to some Resistance rescue mission."

Poe's temper flared. "'Some Resistance rescue mission?' That's what you really think of Rey? She has done nothing but aide your cause with the strength of ten soldiers, and you think of this as just some rescue mission?" He'd gotten right up to the Commander's face. Their noses were on the brink of touching. "Rey is the only Jedi left, and she's done nothing but risk her life for you and your people. You order those fighters to defend that transport or so help me, Commander, I'll - "

Several Shu-Torun soldiers made aggressive movements towards Poe as the the pilot threatened their leader. But the Commander raised a hand and stopped them; what the pilot had said was true, of course, Rey had given much of herself to their cause. "We need three X-Wings on the transport coming in. Now," said the Commander over the comm link.

"Immediately," came the response, and three X-Wings split from the air fight over the bomber and spiraled and spun their way further up in the sky, where the transport was still lowering itself closer and closer to the ground. There was some sparking on its left side, but it appeared it was only superficial damage; the transport was still fully functional.

Luckily, because so many TIEs had been directed off the bomber's destruction, the remaining X-Wings fighters were able to shoot them off - sending several crashing to the ground - and the bomber got a direct hit on the enemy camp. Several First Order cannons went up in fiery explosions that sent stormtroopers and equipment alike flying in to the air. Remaining soldiers quickly came forward to dowse the resulting fires, and a few injured troopers were carted off to receive treatment, but it was an undeniable success for the rebels. Three cannons were nothing more than rubble, and the front line was broken. Above, the bomber took a wide right turn to maneuver itself around and make a second pass. Captains on the ground pointed up at the bomber, re-directing anti-air blasters to its location. It was at its weakest when it was trying to reposition itself, so First Order forces needed to get their shots off now, while its flank was exposed.

Poe noticed the cannons re-positioning and swore. The rebels couldn't lose the bomber - its artillery was extremely heavy-duty, and therefore extremely useful. "Fire on those cannons," yelled the Shu-Torun Commander at his shoulder. The response was immediate as pilots searched the ground and found the offending anti-airs; they immediately began peppering the ground. But while the X-Wings did their best to protect the bomber and destroy the anti-airs, no one was shooting at the circling TIE fighters. Poe saw it happen in slow motion, empathizing for the downed X-Wings as only a fellow pilot can; one plane had its wing shot to shreds and spiraled to the ground, where it exploded and went up in flame. Another X-Wing was sent barreling into the side of a volcanic mountain, trailing black smoke from its fuel tank. It combusted before it even hit the rock face.

His attention was torn from the intense dog fighting and to the transport, as it finally got within range to lower itself and engage landing protocol. Finally. It didn't matter that stormtroopers were still advancing on the ground, because sooner rather than later, Rey, him, and Finn would be loaded on that vessel and taking off, and she'd be safe. It was all he cared about. It looked like it was all Finn cared about, too, as he watched the transport initiate its landing onto the concrete slab with bated breath.

The two friends looked at each other and nodded, steeling themselves. They were about to make the mad dash of their life to that transport - no stopping, no looking back, just full speed onward. They were both about to turn to the command tent to retrieve her when a Resistance blaster bullet backfired on their own line, and the piercing cry of a Shu-Torun Captain rent the air. Poe turned back to look out across the front line, and saw the outline of the one figure he would rather not be seeing, even more so than the nefarious Hux.

From the slightly obscured horizon, where greyish smoke whirled to and fro from blaster fire striking the rocks, came a tall, imposing figure - all in black. Unmistakable. While Hux arriving on Shu-Torun was a puzzle, _his_ arrival was not; he was going to try and take Rey. He'd done it before. Well, hell, if Poe was going to let him get his hands on her again and put her in his torture chair.

"Who is that," said the Commander, not recognizing the figure as easily as Poe, who had faced him many times before.

Poe stood up rod straight and tightened his grip on his blaster. "Kylo Ren."

The wave of anxiety that rippled across the Shu-Torun forces was palpable. Kylo Ren? Here? On their planet? They were terrified. "Why would he come here," asked the Commander in a rushed whisper.

Before Poe could answer, Kylo Ren drew level with their line of defense, within such a distance as they could hear him speak, and ignited his lightsaber, so that its crackling red light was perilous in much the same way as the very lava that shaped the planet. "Give her to me," came the wrathful command through his helmet.

"Not a chance in hell," Poe all but spit back.

Kylo Ren spun his lightsaber around in a clean circle, slicing the thick smoke of the air. "Have it your way."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Star Wars: Division

Okay - this will be one of those 'thank you so much' openers. Because it has been a while and I gained some really great followers and favorites and such, and so - we give thanks!

New Story Followers (and some who also favorited): TamSibling, Ca8E8ac, FEFO3325, hartryan430, Impulse53669, TheSecretNovelist, , Miyoro, lalalerah, SWE-DNK, MythStar Black Dragon, badrevolution, fanaticalfangirl, merlinsaprentice, onyxpass, MortyM, AvalonTheLadyKiller, FrancesOsgood, , BrownEyedFluffyOwl, HarllowHollow, ajacks720, alec221b, spacewoman, EspritLutin, and Revenger Tigger! What a list! Thank you, you beautiful people, for the follows (and favorites).

Folks that favorited the story but aren't on the above list that I don't want to leave out: BadAssMaroo, Violet-Black'1, and aliana bishop.

People who followed me (because they're crazy, I dunno'): pattysue5, Meshale.

And a special shout-out to MortyM (even though they're already mentioned) for pretty much doing it all - Followed and favorited the story, followed and favorited me, AND left a review. I was honestly pretty floored. Haha. Thanks so much for the appreciation and the comment - really nice of you.

And to all my other reviewers - you're awesome! Thanks so much for the feedback. It's really great, and I'm pretty sure that's obvious because every writer says it. But some of the recent feedback has been really nice to receive because I know my story has a much slower pace than A LOT of the other Reylo fics on fanfiction (I'd say 98% of them - eeeek!), so it's really easy to find it boring and tedious. So, to hear from some of you that it's quenching your slow-burn cravings and it's making the experience worth while, that just really really warms me. It makes the writer in me get all giddy and childish. Haha. Thanks guys! Truly.

To all my readers - enjoy. And I hope you are had a wonderful holiday. Happy New Year!

Chapter Seventeen

With the same sickeningly surreal out-of-body sensation one experiences in the slow motion enactment of watching a loved one die, Poe followed the pathway of Finn's body as it was pulled directly into Kylo Ren's awaiting hand; there was a moment - the briefest of moments - in which his stomach fell out of his body entirely and he thought his best friend was dead. Finn's legs kicked wildly as he struggled in Kylo Ren's hold, the life squeezed out of him while the assembled rebels and Resistance fighters alike stood in dumbfound terror, unsure of what to do. Poe had enough sense to fire at the leering Kylo Ren as he mercilessly squeezed, but with his lightsaber he deflected the shots easily. The stormtroopers accompanying their Supreme Leader on the field acted as both offensive units and bodyguards, shooting all across the camp's frontline indiscriminately, aiming at nothing in particular but keeping them pressed down to avoid the dangerous spray of blaster fire. As Poe ducked behind the barricade to keep from getting shot, the overwhelming fear that Finn was going to die, and he could do nothing to stop it, gripped his gut like a vice and twisted. The rebel Commander met his gaze as they both crouched, and his eyes were sad, empathetic, and knowing. _Your friend died a hero_ , his eyes told Poe. _There was nothing you could've done_.

Sometimes war was like that - it backed people up into corners they couldn't escape from, situations that didn't present them with any good options. And often, involuntarily, one's own survival instincts kicked in and gave them no real say in the matter; it had been save himself, or charge Kylo Ren in some foolish attempt to save Finn, and end up with them both dead. It took immeasurable feats of courage and bravery to overcome one's own sense of self-preservation; it was the kind of thing he'd witnessed Rey do many times over. She never turned away from an ally in need. She always put herself in harm's way to save others. Like on Crait. Vrogas Vas. Shu-Torun - he'd seen it so many times. Nothing would convince him otherwise that she was the hero the Galaxy needed. A Jedi, through and through. That's why he had to get her to safety, even if it meant Finn's life.

Then, in a sudden eruption of rock, fire, and molten lava, the spot where the First Order forces had been burst open. Smaller rock chunks, fine dust, and grit covered Poe completely, even on the other side of the barricade, and cascaded its way across the entire expanse of the camp. It had been a huge explosion. The pilot gazed skyward, entirely perplexed, and then saw the bomber - some 400 feet up - close up its bomb bay hatches. It had forgone a second pass on the First Order headquarters to drop them directly on the Supreme Leader and his entourage, and the three X-Wings that had been by its side had followed up as insurance, peppering the ground with bullets just in case some bombs didn't explode on impact. The explosion had been massive - the ground beneath the First Order had been ripped open to reveal a layer of molten rock beneath, and the remaining parts of solid rock were quickly dissolving as the lava bubbled up and burned it away.

Poe surveyed the area, frantic. There was a chance - there _had_ to be a chance. His eyes fell on the dark outline of Kylo Ren, which stirred from its sprawled position across the ground. _Shit_ , he swore mentally. Why wouldn't this bastard just die? He'd be back on his feet, soon; there wasn't much time. Poe kept scanning the field, hoping to find a tell-tale sign of his friend - hoping to even find his body. Finally, he spotted Finn face up only some thirty feet away, and with relief he saw his friend's limbs begin to twitch. He was alive.

That was all Poe needed to know. Without another second of hesitation, he vaulted the barricade and dashed towards his friend. "Come on, buddy," he yelled as he crouched and grabbed Finn's arm, trying to encourage him to stand. "On your feet, let's go," he urged.

Finn's head rolled from left to right as he groaned, and then his eyes fluttered open. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words quickly fell away as he began to cough. A hand came up to rub his throat. Instead of another attempt at speech, he assisted Poe and hauled himself to his feet; his friend threw his arm around his shoulder, and they hobbled their way back to the camp as fast as they could. Which, given Finn was half out of it, wasn't very fast. Still, with help from some other Resistance fighters, the two managed to get back on the other side of the barricade safely.

Poe passed Finn his canteen. "Take a breather," he told him. "And a drink."

Finn said nothing and did what he was told.

"Listen," the rebel Commander yelled, taking Poe by both shoulders. There was a smear of blood across his nose. "The ground has become unstable after the blast. We have to pull back our line. If you're going to get the Jedi out of here - now is the time!"

The Commander was right, of course. Nothing too serious had happened yet, but already cracks were forming in the ground where the lava underneath the surface was beginning to burn its way through, now that the surface's integrity was so greatly compromised. He'd seen something like it before on an ice planet - a frozen lake which had begun to splinter after a crack had begun at its edge. It had spread to half of the lake, and caused a massive hole to form when the ice split apart, fell into the freezing cold water, and got carried away under the other half that remained intact. Something very similar was happening now. The upside was it had sent many of Kylo Ren's troopers to their doom, as they slowly caught on fire and sunk below the roiling, tumultuous lava and got carried away. The down side was soon the path between the camp and the landing pad would be the same, making it impossible to traverse. The Commander was right - now was the time, and there was no room for error.

"Give her to me!" yelled an inhumane voice behind Poe, who had been looking at the command tent while he tried to figure out how to get both Rey and Finn safely to the transport.

He turned and saw Kylo Ren standing up once more, his lightsaber again in hand, again ignited; though, Poe noticed with satisfaction, with a slight hunch in his posture. While his troopers screamed and yelled in violent pain from the molten rock, Kylo Ren eyed his enemies with pure hatred.

It was true, the ground beneath the Supreme Leader's feet lurched and jolted, threatening to throw him into the lava flow like his men. But Poe hardly expected Kylo Ren to let himself lose to some rocks and lava. And, true to form, the bastard was already using the remaining pieces of topsoil to create a path of stepping stones that bridged the distance between where he was currently marooned and the rebel camp. Poe swore and gripped Finn by the shoulder, who was still looking worse for wear, but improved from a few moments ago. "Finn," he said, giving his friend a gentle shake. His friend fixed his eyes upon the pilot and nodded. "Kylo Ren is coming," Poe continued breathlessly. "If we're going to get out of here with Rey - _alive_ \- we have to go now. Go to the tent, and - "

"Look," Finn interrupted. He pointed to a spot up and above Poe's shoulder.

He turned and saw, hovering above the camp, which was quickly being emptied by Shu-Torun soldiers, the transport. As if to check if his eyes deceived him, he glanced quickly over at the landing pad, which was vacant, and had a large crack running through its concrete. His mouth slightly agape, he looked up to the transport again. _Bless you, Mace_ , he thought gratefully.

There was no time to waste; Poe helped Finn to his feet and they ran for the tent, for Rey. A Resistance member aboard the transport was already lowering down the lift cable.

Beneath his feet the rock he stood upon wavered and weakened. If he didn't get to more solid ground, the lava would burn up his sanctuary completely, taking him with it. And even if that didn't happen, the lava flow was slowly carrying him away, down stream. Eyes locked onto the annoyingly defiant face of the Resistance pilot, he reached out and aligned any and all remaining pieces of solid rock into a path of stepping stones that led right up to the rebel barricade. He didn't hesitate; as soon as the path formed, he began moving. With satisfaction, he noted the look of alarm on the pilot's face as the leering figure of Kylo Ren drew nearer. Good - let him be afraid.

As he drew nearer, Rey's presence became stronger. She was nearby, very close. He watched the pilot and ex-stormtrooper run into a large tent in the foreground. Ah, so she was in there. He made it to the barricade just as they emerged, carrying Rey on a simple stretcher made of cloth.

"Give her to me," he repeated for the third time. The trouble he was going through because of that blasted General and his new pet.

The pilot looked particularly protective as he eased his end of the stretcher down, and moved between Kylo Ren and Rey. "You can't have her!" Poe's face was scrunched in concentrated anger. He fired off his blaster several times as Finn knelt down next to Rey and began fastening her to the cable harness.

It was easy to deflect the bullets with the Force coursing through his enraged veins. He howled with a wild, wolf-like laughter at the imbecile's words. "I can't _have_ her? She's already mine, you fool." He fixed a diminutive stare at the Resistance pilot, trying to reduce him to ashes through sheer will alone. Behind him, FN-2187 was already attaching the lift cable to the harness around Rey's torso so she could be pulled up into the belly of the hovering ship. Like an animal, he growled. Through the Force he reached and pulled on the cable, which came swinging out of the ex-stormtrooper's hands.

Confusion replaced the anger on Poe's face. _Already yours_? He questioned mentally. What could Kylo Ren possibly be talking about?

The man opposite him was gesturing, and his fist shook with emotions he was clearly trying to keep clamped down. "Rey and I have been communicating through the Force for weeks. It's something the likes of you would never understand."

Poe's eyebrows shot up. What? But that couldn't be true.

"You're a liar," Finn raged to Poe's left, on his feet next to his friend, the cable and rescue mission temporarily forgotten as he seethed. "Rey would never betray us!"

"You would know about betrayal, wouldn't you," Kylo Ren jabbed.

"You just want to torture her again," Poe fired back aggressively. He remembered how Rey had looked when recounting the story of her time on the Starkiller base in Kylo Ren's custody, and then again on the _Supremacy_. She'd touched briefly on the torture, and did her best to appear strong and unfazed, but there was the smallest downturn to her mouth that revealed just how much that time had affected her. He didn't want her to go through that again. He had been on the receiving end of Ren's mind manipulation powers, or whatever they were, and he certainly never wanted to experience it again. To think Rey had suffered it multiple times made his stomach queasy in empathy.

"Finn," he yelled, and took the man by the shoulders. "Get her hooked up to that harness! Let me distract him!" With a nod, he got back on his knees and went about fastening it around Rey's torso.

He frowned, watching the pilot. There was something there, something he could just barely glimpse through the Force. Underneath layers of other emotions and other thoughts, it lay like a stone in the man's center. Guarded. "You want her," he said, eying the man suspiciously. There, deep in the man's being, lay a coveted attachment to Rey he hadn't let anyone in on: a secret. An unrequited love. He didn't like it. It didn't sit well with him.

"She's my friend," Poe answered defensively. "I want to protect her." But the hand gripping his blaster was shaking just a bit, anxiously. And by then, it was far too late - the truth was written on Poe's face for anyone to see, anyone that took a careful look into his eyes and saw that tiny touch of sadness, and loneliness, that marches hand-in-hand with an unrequited love.

"No," Kylo Ren shook his head, denying the friendship facade. It rankled him that this pet project would-be hero of his mother's would think himself worthy. The Resistance may think him some hero - an ace pilot brought up under the General's wing who rose in ranks up the chain of command - but Kylo Ren had seen inside his mind, back when he was trying to torture the location of the map from its depths. There were some messy, cowardly things he would definitely rather hide. He scoffed. "You?" he said with a sneer. "She's far too good for you."

Poe bristled, rising to Kylo Ren's taunt. "Well, I don't care what you think is going on between you, but she's definitely too good for _you_ ," he pronounced stiffly through sealed teeth.

There was no reason for him to react the same way. The pilot was insecure, but knew the bond between him and Rey was unique, and something the simpleton flier would never understand. "That may be," he admitted. "But she chose me."

"If that's true, why did she stay with the Resistance? Why did she rescue us from Crait?"

His feeling of smugness was quickly squashed. Working his jaw from side to side, he scowled within his helmet. "That's none of your concern."

Poe huffed mockingly. "She didn't choose you. You're delusional."

Countless times, since the moment he'd first arrived at Snoke's feet and knelt to swear his undying allegiance to a new, dark Master, Kylo Ren was mocked and belittled, torn down so Snoke could build him back up as some perfect image of a true Sith Lord; a replacement for the great Darth Vader. And he had endured it in order to slowly and carefully move his way, bit by agonizingly small bit, work his way towards his own vision of the Galaxy's future - of _his_ future. But to be mocked by this know-nothing Resistance fighter - that he couldn't tolerate. And the fact Rey's rejection was still an open wound, raw and tender and throbbing, certainly didn't help the matter. His rage reached new heights, fueled by his wild, animal-like yell.

It wouldn't be so bad to just kill him, right? Rey might be upset when she found out, but he was confident it wouldn't drive a wedge between them for long. He'd prefer not to, honestly, because he didn't want to hurt her, but the impetuous smirk on the pilot's face as he taunted him - he could get rid of it so easily. Hand outstretched, he pulled the pilot into his grasp same as he had done with the ex-stormtrooper. Poe Struggled in his grip, but Kylo Ren hardly noticed as he drew their faces close together. "I may not be worthy," he said to the pilot, as the man's face turned a bright red and his eyes rolled around in his head, "but I understand her in a way you never will."

Poe made some indistinguishable noises while his hands fought desperately - and futility - to loosen the hand around his throat. He kicked, and he struggled, but he may as well have been fighting against a brick wall; there was no give, there was no chance. Lights started popping in his eyes, and Kylo Ren's helmet leered at him, taking in every last second as he choked him to death.

"I'll take good care of her," Kylo Ren said menacingly, and then the bastard laughed. _He laughed_. He'd never heard the likes of Kylo Ren laugh before, and yet here he was, with his hand tightening mercilessly around his throat, taunting him with a laugh. The edges of his vision blurred. His face, his head - things began to feel cold.

 _Pew, pew, pew-pew-pew-pew!_

The dark Force-user cried out and recoiled, and Poe dropped to the floor. There were a second of delay, and then he gasped hugely and hoarsely and felt air coming back into his body. Coughing and hacking, Finn took him under his arm and dragged him to the harness cable; Rey was no longer on the ground, Poe noticed, and hoped he was safely on board the ship. Above, one of the transport's guns had been turned towards the Supreme Leader, and had blasted him. _Couldn't've done that sooner_ , Poe thought sarcastically, rubbing at his neck while he continued to gasp and struggle for air. The two friends made it to the harness and wrapped an arm around each end, doing away with the safe, conventional method. There was simply no time to go one by one; they needed to escape the planet and Kylo Ren - _now_.

"Pull us up!" Finn yelled skyward. The Resistance fighter who had manned the gun nodded over the edge of the ship, and then disappeared again. The crank came to life and began pulling them upward.

Somehow, they managed to get aboard safely. They untangled their arms from the harness, and Poe saw Rey, lying on a cot, still completely still and at peace. He drew a shaky hand across his brow, and exhaled roughly. This had certainly turned into quite the rescue, hadn't it? He certainly wasn't looking forward to facing Kylo Ren again, or having the life squeezed out of him. Finn gave him a few quick pats on the back, and a small smile began to form, the kind that comes with a sudden burst of happiness and adrenaline. "We did it," he said, half disbelief, half jubilation.

"Everybody ready? Seat belts on," asked the pilot over the comm system.

"Just go, Mace!" yelled Poe. "What're you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting to make sure everyone is safe before I fly us into the atmosphere and you fall out the side door, you idiot," she threw back at him, unperturbed, as she flipped some switches and hit some buttons. The thrusters powered up, and they started to move.

From the ground, there was a terrible sound, something Poe couldn't describe. It was wild and primeval, like the guttural cry of a beast, except that beast was enraged and maddened and ravenous for blood. And then the transport came to a jerky hault. Poe and Finn exchanged looks, and then hurried to the side door; down on the ground, Kylo Ren was holding their ship - _pulling_ their ship - back down to the ground with as much strength in the Force as he could muster. Poe swore, Finn swore, Mace swore, and yelled over the comm system, "What the hell is going on?"

"It's Kylo Ren," Poe yelled back. He searched around for a blaster. "Get on the gun," he told the other Resistance fighter. "Shoot him off us."

The man nodded and hurried down a ladder to the lower level where the gunner seat was located.

"Why aren't there any blasters in here," Poe said panicked, frantic, rummaging to and fro and coming up empty-handed. He widened his stance with the transport jerked suddenly, doing his best to maintain his balance. Finn was holding on to Rey's cot to keep it from jostling free.

Outside, that same primal voice wailed, "Rey!"

"God, Mace, can't you punch it out a'here? Let's move it," Poe shouted at her.

"I can't! The ship won't go!"

Instead, the ship jerked in the sky, sometimes pulling forward, and then sometimes pulling back, caught on an invisible string.

"Rey!"

"Someone start shooting him," Finn screamed.

"What's that gunner doing," Poe yelled.

"He twisted the barrel," the man yelled back to them over the comm system. "The gun's no use anymore!"

There was another round of swearing from all crew involved. Finn wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, and his bottom lip had a slight quiver to it. Poe couldn't keep his hand from shaking. How the hell were they going to get out of this? Wait it out until the bastard got tired and ran out of juice?

It was amidst the chaos and panic that something even more unexpected happened, something that completely chilled him to the bone. "Kylo," Rey whispered. Poe turned, mortified. She didn't just say what he thought she'd said.

"Kylo," she muttered again, louder this time, tension lines between her brows. But Rey would never - He couldn't believe it. It was like she was… answering his call. Reaching out to him.

"Rey!" Came Kylo Ren's savage yell from the ground. Poe quickly stuck his head out the open door, in complete shock. Rey had spoken his name barely above a whisper, and yet the ferocity and desperation in his voice suggested he'd heard it - heard _her_. Were they really connected through the Force?

"What the hell," said Finn. He was in shock, too. Disbelief had cut a swath across his face. He was staring at Rey's still unconscious body as if she were a stranger, or some bizarre creature. When he looked up at Poe, his friend barely recognized his expression. "What's going on?" Though it was a simple question, the look on Finn's face was complicated - a splash of every negative emotion humans had the ability to feel and emote, and then some.

"Rey," came the rage-filled roar once more.

It was agitating her; she was starting to move her body, even though the IV still administered a steady drip of sedatives. Her hand was twitching - fidgeting beside her. "Kylo," she yelled, and she lifted up off the cot for a moment before falling back. It looked like she was struggling against shackles, though absolutely nothing bound her. Quieter she said, "No, stop - " and then her eyes came open. When her eyes came open, she regained consciousness, which also meant the pain inflicted upon her by the Devaronian edge returned. She cried out with a deep, guttural shriek of torment.

"What's going on," Finn said again, but this time with a desperate form of panic as Rey contorted in pain right in front of him.

Poe gripped her legs to hold them still. "She's overcoming the medicine or something. Hold her down," he yelled, and Finn quickly forced her still by pushing down on both shoulders. Her screams continued.

Poe pulled a syringe from his pocket and jammed it into the flesh of her thigh and pressed down on the plunger. "It was an extra dose of the sedative," Poe said after glimpsing the questioning look on his friend's face. "The doctor gave it to me in case of an emergency."

"We need to get out of here!" Finn yelled. "Shoot him again!"

"We have no gun!"

The pilot door opened just wide enough for a blaster to be tossed out. It landed at Poe's feet and he scrambled to pick it up. He took only a brief second to make sure it was ready and loaded, and then went to the open side door and began shooting, shooting - crossed his fingers, muttered a prayer, and hoped one of the bullets hit the bastard. One did actually hit Kylo Ren in the thigh, but he didn't even flinch. "God dammit," Poe muttered, concentrating with a furrowed brow. He shot again and again and again.

Their saving grace wasn't the blaster, but the planet itself, as the ground beneath the Force-user's feet began to shift and give way. His options were either stay and continue to fight against the ship and inevitably fall into the lava, or else let go and retreat and save himself from burning alive. The man certainly hesitated, perhaps because he thought he was powerful enough to overcome his odds, to do something spectacular, but when the crack in the surface split down the middle of his stance, he realized there was nothing he could do. He let go of the transport, filled with impotent rage. As soon as the transport was free from his grasp, it shot up, and away.

He watched it go, twisted with emotions beyond rage and fury.

Someone was going to pay for this.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Star Wars: Division**

xxGUSHINESSxx: Thanks so much for the great comments last week! I'm glad you found my story and you've been enjoying it.

IceFire Dragon Alchemist73: I know. :( It was really hard for me to deny Kylo the whole "I'm just going to yank that ship down and kill all of you" glory, but it had to be done. Because I have so many other things in mind.

onyxpass and jezie: Thank you thank you thank you.

AvalonTheLadyKiller: I couldn't keep myself from laughing when I read your comment. HAHA. You really seemed to have suffered through Chapter 17. Maybe this one will be better...?

Roacharoo: I knoooow~ That would've been a lot of fun to write, honestly, but it would screw up everything I've got planned. So - big "DENIED" for Kylo.

Rainbow24: Hello and welcome to my story! I definitely understand where you're coming from. I wrote this story to explore Kylo and Rey, though, and so omitting their dark sides, and making them too soft and too emotional would just not allow for a lot of that exploration to happen. Glad you appreciate it.

Sorry for the Friday update, but I lost a section of the chapter that I'd started on last week, and no matter where I looked - my phone, my tablet, my laptop - I couldn't find it. So, I had writer's depression for a few days. Haha. *M-Rating.

To all my readers: Enjoy!

 **Chapter Eighteen**

"I don't give a damn what you have to do," he was stressing to his Knights as they stood at attention before him. "Or who you have to kill, or which planet needs to be blown up - you get me Carise Sindian's financial records or the transaction files leading to her involvement with the assassin." His Knights nodded their affirmative. "And get me the assassin, too," he said darkly; there were a few very choice things he'd like to do - _personally_ \- to whomever it was that'd laid their hands on Rey.

"Yes, Master," they intoned in unison.

"Don't bother returning until you have everything."

They didn't need to be told they were dismissed, they simply knew it was time to go based off how well they knew Kylo Ren and his mannerisms. As one, the Knights turned on their heels and exited the throne room. Loyal only to their Master, the Supreme Leader, to the once Ben Solo, his enemies were their enemies without question. They wanted to see the Senator pay for her backhanded dealings as much as he did.

Kylo Ren returned to his throne and sat down, back straight, arms on their appropriate armrests, and waited. He'd spent the last four days waiting impatiently for any kind of alert as to Rey's condition, but as she remained unconscious, the Force was unable to connect them. All he could do was sense her underlying memories of pain, explosions, yelling, and the lingering feelings of those close to her that she could sense. That damn pilot - he sensed _his_ feelings; the confusion, the pain, the unbreakable, secret admiration. It wrenched at his gut as he tried to sleep at night. To think that imbecile thought he had some connection to her, when he would never understand her. All he had was hero worship. It hardly measured up to what Kylo Ren and Rey shared, even while locked in destinies that kept them light years apart. No, the pilot was a fool. And he would pay dearly for interfering.

 **A couple days later:**

The ceiling was smooth and textureless, leaving Rey nothing worthwhile to count as she lay in bed. It had been one standard week since the events on Shu-Torun - or so she was told - and she'd spent that entire time bedridden in med bay. Five of those days she was unconscious, but she woke up almost two days ago. A warm welcome did not greet her, much to her initial confusion. Instead, Finn and Poe looked uncharacteristically upset, some kind of combination of disbelief, dumbfound, and angry. Rose lingered in the background, speechless. Leia hadn't come to visit her at all. She'd feared the worst, perhaps some devastating attack that had crippled the Fleet, or perhaps the entire operation on the mining planet had gone under, and she even considered that perhaps Leia had been killed. But none of those fears were reality. Instead, after the doctor aboard the _Radiance_ explained the assassination attempt, the effects of the sword, and her recovery, he was asked to leave and she was informed by her - was it still accurate to say 'friends?' - _friends_ , rather stiffly, about Kylo Ren's involvement in the situation, and the information he'd revealed. Then the trio left, left her alone for two days to sit and stew and, to be quite honest, panic, because she had no idea what this could mean for her future with the Resistance.

 _Or Kylo_ , she thought, despite herself. And yet, somehow, she didn't feel all that worried about where she stood with him. She hadn't lied and betrayed him, after all, just his mother and her entire force of good guys who wanted to restore the Republic. No big deal.

The doors to her private room opened with a soft hiss, and she looked up. Poe, Finn, and Rose entered, grim and thin lipped. She swallowed, but then felt angry that she was getting nervous because she shouldn't have to plead her case to her friends. Why didn't they trust her? Why was she about to be interrogated like a criminal? They drew level with her bed, and she avoided their accusatory stares, her eyes set straight ahead on the steel wall in front of her. Her jaw was set.

"Rey," Poe said after a moment of the most uncomfortable of silences, "don't be defensive."

"What should I be," she huffed.

"Honest," Finn said roughly, bordering on aggression.

Her head snapped around so she could glare at him. "I've never lied to you - or anyone! It's ridiculous that you're all here treating me like some saboteur. I've never done anything to jeopardize the Resistance or its mission."

"How can we know that," Rose hissed through clamped shut teeth. "We've had a lot of close calls, lately, and it could all be because you're feeding them information."

"We got out of those close calls _because_ of me," she fired back, finger pushed directly into the skin of her sternum.

"Yeah, we got into them because of you, and got out of them because of you so you wouldn't blow your cover," she nearly spat.

Poe moved between them. "All right, all right, tempers are high, but we all need to relax," and he gave Finn a pointed look as if to say _including you_. Finn didn't dignify Poe's attempts to pacify the situation with a response.

It was his anger that hurt Rey the most. She and Finn had begun this journey together as outcasts, two wayward souls trying to right their worlds after destiny had dealt them each a cruel, twisted fate. A scavenger and an ex-stormtrooper - what a pair they had made. And somehow, over the last weeks and weeks of fighting on zero sleep and food, daring missions that could've easily ended in death, and watching their comrades die in battle, the two of them were still standing side by side. Determined. Loyal. Until now. Everything was soured, now, somehow, because of one small revelation. It wasn't even a lie, just a veiled truth, and she'd only hidden it because - as they were proving right now - they wouldn't understand. How could they? They expected her to be a Jedi, be a hero, fight until the bitter end for the better cause, but they knew nothing of the Force, or the Jedi Order, or the Sith, for that matter, and they certainly didn't understand the confusing machinations of Kylo Ren's mind; _she_ was still trying to figure all that out herself. So, how could they understand? They just wanted to take her for granted, order her around like a soldier, and if she thought for herself? If she tried to do something that went above and beyond the reach or vision of the Resistance? Suddenly, she was a traitor.

"Tell us, Rey," Poe began, as he entreated her with a semi-sympathetic look on his face, "what's going on?"

She eyed Finn and Rose in turn, neither of whom shared the same expression as the pilot. They were beginning to show just how stubbornly they were going to cling to this idea she was a liar and a backstabber, and she was getting the distinct feeling no matter what she said, it wasn't going to change their minds at all. But they were all standing around her, waiting impatiently for some kind of explanation - whether they wanted to hear it or believe it or not - so, she may as well come clean and try to make them understand her motives. At the very least, she hoped it wouldn't get her evicted from the Resistance.

She sighed, and unfolded her arms, and looked at Poe, who was the most receptive to her message. "Weeks ago, after I'd first arrived on Ahch'To to find Luke, the Force - " her mouth worked from side to side. How could she explain what the Force had done? It seemed like such a complicated, visceral thing. "The Force connected Kylo Ren and me. Don't ask me why, I don't know," she hurried to say when Poe opened his mouth to respond. "I don't know," she repeated, "but it did. And at first I didn't want to talk to him. I accused him, yelled at him for killing Han Solo, and was angry, but for some reason, somehow, things just… changed. He changed," she said, licking her top lip in thought. "I could see Ben Solo beyond Kylo Ren. I saw the good in him."

Finn tisked loudly. "The good in him? Are we talking about the same guy? The one who slaughtered everyone, including his parents' old friend on Jakku when he wanted to retrieve the map? The guy who boarded the _Redeemer_ , annihilated its entire crew, and tortured one of them in front of the entire Resistance? _Including his own mother?_ This is the guy with _good in him_ ," Finn's hands were tightly shaped fists, shaking at his sides as he berated her sarcastically - bitterly.

She eyed him sternly. "I don't expect any of you to understand, but through the Force I saw the good that remains inside him. _I saw it_ ," she stressed. "It's there."

Finn threw his hands up. "He killed his own father, Rey! Have you lost your mind?" He grabbed hold of the railing to her medical bed and began shaking it. "Are you seriously trying to argue for this mass murderer? For the First Order's leader? What has he done to you?"

She pushed him off the railing - hard. Harder than she meant to, to be honest, and judging by how far back he flailed she had probably put some Force strength into it, but at the moment she didn't care. She got out of bed, ignored Poe's protests to her left, and advanced on her friend. "He hasn't done anything. You know, I'm trying my damnedest for this organization. I've risked my life, I've given my all to this cause, and because of some connection I can't control, and _he_ can't control, you're going to crucify me?" She stopped when they were face-to-face, tips of her toes touching the tips of his booted feet. "When this all began you wanted to run and hide on some outer-rim planet. You didn't care about what the Resistance was doing. Now you're what, its greatest defender?"

Finn took a very long, hard inhale through his nose, and his nostrils flared. They stood staring at each other, locked in place, for a good whole minute before - once again - Poe had to play mediator and moved between them. He gently pushed them apart.

"Let's remain calm, guys, come on," Poe pleaded, looking distraught. To see his two friends like this was agony. They were a team. And the team was being cleaved apart by suspicion and anger and hurt feelings, and he couldn't allow that. He looked at Rey. "You had your reasons, then, and maybe we can't understand them," he quickly turned to look at Finn, "but we can accept them."

"Like hell," Finn muttered under his breath.

Rey's temper flared. "I am trying to save him. You know, for all we've talked, he's never once asked me about the Resistance's plans or locations, and I've never brought them up. You really think I'd turn my back on you?"

Finn's bottom lip was quivering, whether in some kind of sorrow or in anger, she couldn't tell. "You've been communicating with the enemy for weeks because of some weird Force thing no one else can understand or see, and we just have to take your word for it that you haven't told him anything. That you haven't been working with him this whole time!"

"I'm asking you to trust me," she yelled back. "I'm asking you to trust me like I trusted you. _All of you_ ," she said, and turned to Rose, then Poe. "I had no idea asking my friends to have my back was too much to ask."

"All right, okay," Poe interjected, before either of them could say anything further that would only add fuel to the fire, or worse, continue to take the conversation in pointless circles. He looked at Rey. Frowned. "I get you had good intentions and you had your reasons, fine. But what happened on Shu-Torun? Why did you," he paused and looked at the ground. He raised his head back up quickly, "Why did you call out to him? You were lying there and you said his name." The pilot shifted from foot to foot looking entirely uncomfortable.

Ah, that. That had been a confusing moment for her, too, as initially she'd been unconscious, and wasn't aware she'd been speaking out loud prior to the brief moment in which she'd woken up. In her mind's eye she'd been seeing things - or rather, _experiencing_ things, in the same way one dreams when they sleep, except it wasn't entirely a dream. Instead, she had seen distorted, flexible images, visions of lava, then of the mines, then of stormtroopers, then of X-Wings. It had been jumbled and incoherent, but then she had felt Kylo, no doubt through the Force, and sensed pain, terrible, horrible pain, that pierced through her awareness even as she lay there sedated. And then the sounds of blaster fire. Explosions. Death cries. Crashes. The sharp, ear-splitting screech of metal being ripped. Amongst all the noise, and all the colors, all she had been able to get a more concrete grasp on was Kylo Ren, enraged, yelling for her. And she thought he'd needed her help. She thought he'd been in trouble. She saw him bent forward, holding his lightsaber limply in hand, and grew afraid.

The trio was waiting for her response, and if they couldn't understand her connection to Kylo Ren, they certainly weren't going to understand any of _that_. The best she could do was keep it simple and to the point. "I thought he was in trouble," she said, a bit lamely, as that hardly had described all the turmoil that had gone on inside her head at the time. "I heard him calling for me, and thought he needed my help."

Rose rolled her eyes. "I've heard enough," she said tightly, and then turned around and left.

Finn watched her go, and then said, petty, "I'm about to leave, too. This is bullshit. Even if that were true, why would you want to help that bastard?"

"Haven't you been listening," she said, and her temper bristled once more. "If I can turn Kylo Ren away from the Dark Side, then the war is won. The First Order comes to an end. Everything stops, and Leia can re-build the Republic. I don't want him to die, I want to save him."

"If he's about to die," Finn said, and aggressively stepped toward her, "just let him die. And all our problems are solved, anyway."

Enough was enough. They weren't getting anywhere the way things were, and she was about to do something she'd sincerely regret when cooler heads prevailed. Unable to understand the Force, they were unable to truly understand what she felt and knew and sensed in Kylo Ren, and ultimately it just sounded like a lot of nonsense and desperation on her part, to be some kind of savior, to be the one to turn the rogue Force-user back to the Light. Of course, she didn't care about the glory, she cared about the man. And his future. She cared about the outcome of all this strife and what it would mean for the Galaxy. All Finn and Poe knew was that the First Order was evil, and Snoke was evil, and his apprentice - the new Supreme Leader - was evil, and their cause under Leia Organa's banner was just and pure, and the only way forward. Rigid, self-righteous thinking. She could see it. All those bitter anecdotes from the mouth of Kylo Ren, and here she was finally beginning to see what he meant. Even the good guys were imperfect; even the good guys could be heartless and uncaring.

"Just get out," she said, and waved her hand as she turned back to her bed.

"But, Rey, I - "

"Go, Poe. We're not accomplishing anything, here. You guys are hurt and paranoid and you don't want to listen to anything I have to say."

"You can't even admit some responsibility in all this," Finn said under his breath. "It's all just us being paranoid, huh? You didn't do anything wrong, here, Rey?"

She turned, straight as a board, and looked him in the eye. "No. But I might do something wrong in a second if you don't get the hell out."

That had decided it. Finn's dark expression got even darker, and then the ex-stormtrooper set his jaw and left.

"Leia is gonna' want to talk to you," Poe said, quietly, afraid to fall victim to her ire.

She sighed, and deflated. "I'm sure she is."

Poe saw how weary she looked - how utterly exhausted, and alone, and it pulled at his heart. This wasn't how he'd wanted their conversation to go; this wasn't how things should be between them. They were friends. Maybe Rey's explanation was hard to wrap his simpler mind around - he was a pilot, he knew planes and flying - but he still trusted her. Everything she'd done since joining the Resistance had been to further the cause, and he'd seen her put herself in harm's way to do it. There's no way she had secretly been dealing information to the enemy all this time. He'd never believe it.

On impulse, he pulled her into a hug. "Hey," he said gently in her ear, "Don't worry, okay? Everything will be okay. They're just upset right now, you know? It was really crazy on Shu-Torun, really stressful. But Finn will calm down." He ran a hand up and down her back soothingly. "He'll calm down and we can talk again. Okay?"

Rey rested her head on his shoulder, as every bit tired as she looked, and exhaled into his shirt. "Yeah," she mumbled against it, her eyes closed. "Yeah," she said again in an attempt to reassure herself. "Thanks Poe," she added, and then pulled up to flash him a smile. "I needed that."

He returned the smile; his gut did a flip. "No problem. Why don't you get freshened up? That'll probably help you feel better, too."

Her smile widened. "Good idea."

"I'll leave you to it," and then the pilot was gone.

Getting cleaned up did help improve her mood. There was something to be said about simple things, and standing under the warm water while she let her mind drift was a nice reprieve. Unfortunately, the tranquility was only as long as the shower, because once she stepped out and got dressed in clean clothes, she began running through the conversation. It's not that she didn't understand why they'd be angry, and it wasn't that she was trying to deny responsibility - hadn't she thought of herself as a traitor more than once since facing Kylo Ren through their connection? - but to completely turn their backs on her. That hurt. That took hold of her heart and gave it a nice twist. Poe had been willing to listen, at least, and had taken things well, considering, but Finn looked like he wanted nothing to do with her, as if she were tainted. Was working with the opposition so despicable that he'd just cut Rey from his life? And before she'd even had the chance to properly explain? Her head was a mess; she'd practically been in a coma for five days. Couldn't he just give her some time?

And Leia - how would that go? Would she kick Rey out of the Resistance, even though she herself had admitted to seeing Kylo Ren's good side, too? Even though she'd told Rey he had been unable to kill her, and that moment had given her a renewed sense of hope? _But after the_ Redeemer, _Leia lost faith_ , she thought sadly, chewing on her bottom lip. She remembered the look in the woman's eyes, the breakdown of all her good will and faith for her son, who she had wanted to believe in so much even after he'd killed his father. But the death of Han Solo, and the gutting of the _Redeemer's_ crew were too much for her to look passed.

Could she convince Leia otherwise? If she told Leia that Kylo Ren had been the one to kill Snoke, would she be able to understand - as Rey was - that his intentions for the Galaxy were rooted in good intentions? Yes, good intentions could lead to the worst of problems, or darkest of nights, but with guidance, with people that believed in him, those good intentions need never go astray. That's all he'd been asking her for, aboard the _Supremacy_ \- support, and guidance, and a partnership, so that the Galaxy could see a new era. Why had it taken her so long to puzzle it out? _Because I was like Finn, then. I thought he was pure evil, and I listened to what the Resistance said._ It wasn't that the Resistance wasn't right, but their propaganda campaigns were really no different than the First Order's. And they could be just as narrow-minded. Just as ignorant.

A medical droid entered as she lay in bed and pondered all this, eyes blankly fixed on the ceiling.

"How are you feeling, Miss Rey?"

"Fine," she said simply.

"Wonderful. I think one more day of observation will be in order, then - "

But Rey cut the droid off, and got out of the bed. "Actually, I'd like to rest in my room, if that's all right."

"Well, I think - " the poor droid began, trailing her to the door to her med bay unit.

"Great, thanks," she said, and she kept walking, without glancing back, until she'd reached her private room. As much as she wanted to curl up in her bed and fall asleep and wake up to a new reality, she knew her time would be better spent working. So, determined, she pulled out the sacred Jedi texts and began reading. Studying the Force, and understanding the Force, was her best option for having the knowledge and skill necessary to fix this situation; not the situation with Finn and Poe, but the big picture situation that was about to irrevocably tear the Galaxy in two.

She thought of Master Skywalker. Would he know? That was probably the worst possible outcome of the whole thing. Losing her friends would be terrible, and being forced out of the Resistance would break her heart, but losing Master Skywalker would end all of it, everything. She needed him to teach her the ways of the Jedi, something no one else could do. Kylo Ren could teach her things, yes, but not quite like Luke. His Jedi training as Ben Solo would forever be overshadowed by his rebirth as the darker, more reckless Kylo Ren, whether he adhered to being a Sith or forsook them. She needed someone who had, at the very least, died a Jedi.

Regardless of what her friends may think, Rey suffered no delusions that Kylo Ren was a hero; he led a ruthless group of killing machines called the Knights of Ren, he had experience with butchering entire villages, and was known throughout the Galaxy as a bird of prey among a field of mice, a predator brimming with a dark appetite. He walked like he held all the evils of the night, a figure cut in black against innocent backgrounds that shrieked in his wake. He held all the promise of nightmares, the fear and trembling and splashing of blood upon blood making rivers down streets. She knew what he was. The difference between her and everyone else: she also knew what he could _be_. And she was beginning to see his vision take shape in her mind, the purpose - the drive. It was no longer some misguided plan, but something of potential.

What if all he needed was someone to steady his hand? What if, as she'd pondered earlier, all he really needed was guidance? He certainly hadn't had much of that in life. She tapped on the corner of the page, thoughtful, and then returned to its teachings. If she were going to become a guiding light, she should be qualified for the job.

She was sitting down - he could see that. Based on her terrible posture, and the way her hands were resting on the desk, he guessed she was reading, and the only thing she'd be reading that intently were the sacred texts. A few wisps of hair hung around her temples and he marveled at how natural she looked, and how real, after a week's worth of not seeing her or knowing about her condition had nearly driven him to madness. But there she was, as persistent as ever, up working when she probably still needed to be in bed resting.

"You were allowed to bring the Jedi texts to med bay," he said with an amused eyebrow quirk.

"No," she said without lifting her head. "I left med bay. Too stuffy."

"I'm sure that went over well with your friends," he said, feigning disinterest.

Her fingers paused in their ministrations across the page. "I've been ostracized," she said with a bitter huff through her nose. "Labelled a traitor."

"Hm," he mused, and walked over to his own desk to sit down and observe her. He wanted her to look up at him, look his way, but she kept to the texts with some newfound intensity of determination. It wasn't because she was trying to give him the cold shoulder, but it pricked at him all the same. He wanted her attention.

Her finger paused at the end of the page, and she scribbled something down. Then, with a sigh, she put the piece of paper with her scribbled thoughts in the book to hold her place as a bookmarker, and sat back in her chair. She shrugged and rotated her head and shoulders; tension had built up, and he wondered just how long she'd been sitting there.

"I guess you know about the assassination attempt," she said heavily, and hung her head in exhaustion. It only made sense he would've felt something, or noticed something was off, given their connection.

He didn't say anything, because she already knew the answer. "No one really told me anything about it, but then I guess it's because no one is really sure why someone would have me assassinated."

"Really? You don't think The Last Jedi would have a lot of enemies?"

She half-chuckled, a black, sour sound, as she ruminated on exactly what that meant. It shouldn't be surprising to anyone that certain dregs of the Galaxy would want the last of the Jedi Order to be killed, effectively ending an organization that had for eons been a beacon of goodness and hope. To snuff something like that out would be a powerful message to anyone that relied on that goodness and hope. Of course, he knew that wasn't the source of this attempt in particular, only that it would be a possibility for as long as she lived. But did she know that? Did she have any idea how big of a target there was painted on her back? Isn't that something Leia should make her aware of - or Luke? The Skywalker siblings always did have a penchant for keeping people in the dark; they liked to covet their information to keep themselves at the top of the food chain.

She looked up at him, suddenly, and the dark amusement died on her lips. Her face was serious, impassable. "You know something." In those three words he felt all the weight of her accusation.

There was silence as the two watched each other, locked in some odd stand-off. Finally, "I have enemies," he said, and leaned back in his chair, rubbed his hand across his eyes in exhaustion. "In the First Order," he elaborated, when he opened his eyes again and saw the perplexed look on Rey's face.

"What do you mean," she said, brows furrowed.

Rey wasn't naive, of course, she just wasn't informed of how things ran in the First Order, and she certainly didn't know of his history with Armitage Hux. Perhaps it was part of the reason she couldn't understand why he was unable to leave the First Order when the chance had come up. If he had gone with her, Armitage Hux would've assumed the mantle of Supreme Leader, and in his stead the Galaxy would've assuredly become a mirror image of its days under Darth Sidious. He wanted to prevent that. Another Empire wouldn't solve anyone's problems, though he also believed another Republic wouldn't, either. If he could just get Rey to understand, the two of them could bridge that gap together, and take the Galaxy in a direction the likes of which were yet unseen.

"I mean, there are some that want to depose me. Some that want to hurt me." His eyes went to the datapad sitting atop his desk as it repeatedly ran on a loop through the data he'd been reviewing. "Some that will hurt you, in order to hurt me." He couldn't meet her eyes, and he wasn't sure why. It's not as if they didn't know about each other's feelings, or what they each desired. But there hadn't been intimacy between them in a while; it almost felt alien.

"The assassin was sent by one of your enemies?"

"Yes," he confirmed, still unable to meet her eyes.

"One of your enemies that isn't from the Resistance?"

"Yes," he said again.

She huffed a breathy, half-chuckle. "You have a lot of enemies."

"Mmm," he said in contemplation. Did he? Had it always been this way, or was it a new development because of his leadership role? Then again, even if he hadn't been plagued by a retinue of enemies his whole life, he still had never had many friends. He had always been so distant from everyone, so different and far away and unreachable.

"You know who did it, don't you? The person who sent the assassin after me?"

He didn't need to answer; she knew the answer already. The questions had been to break the silence, not to get an answer.

"Tell me."

This was something he'd wanted desperately to avoid; she couldn't go tearing off across the Galaxy in search of the assassin or the people who had placed the hit on her. Not that the idea of her exacting her own revenge without his - or anyone else's - help hadn't pleased him (he knew all too well how sweet vengeance could be, and he wouldn't normally deprive her of it), but she wasn't knowledgeable enough in the Galaxy, or her abilities, yet, to go off on a rogue mission. Likely, she'd end up hurt again, or dead, and neither of those were particularly appealing for the dark Force-user. She'd just pulled out of being poisoned; it wouldn't do to have her missing a limb, next.

"I don't need your permission," she almost snarled, sensing his conflicted, roiling thoughts.

He did look up at her, then. "You don't need my permission," he agreed, "and honestly, I would never withhold it. But Rey - you're still learning. They're my enemies, anyway," he added, brooding. "Let me handle it. It's my problem."

"And nearly being killed doesn't make it mine," she shot back.

Yes, it did - of course it did, but he feared admitting it out loud would only make her more driven to settle matters with her own hands. So, he said nothing. Again, the silence came between them, much like space, his parents, and Fate sat between them, always, like an impenetrable fog that could only be circumnavigated by the power of the Force. There was fear between them, and uncertainty, as Rey tried to come to terms with what nearly dying had helped her realize, somewhere behind the secret doors of her heart, and he tried to wrestle with the what-ifs of a world without her, which nearly losing her had made him face. And did she blame him? After everything else that had gone on between them - the _Redeemer_ , Vrogas Vas, now this - had she finally reached the end of her interest in him? Was it only hatred, now?

And after rejecting him over and over, had he finally given up on her? Was she a lost cause, now, just a thorn in his side? A constant, ugly reminder of what could've been - what they could've had?

Between them, the tension pitched painfully, heightened by the Force.

Underneath the uncertainty, and the fears, was the tug of destiny, making them as one.

"Why did you call for me," she asked, barely above a whisper. Her chest swelled with emotion.

 _Shu-Torun_ , came the memories across his mind, the raging and screaming and yelling for her as he watched the smug pilot's face take off into the atmosphere. "You know why," he said, his voice like ink, adrift on the air between them, swirling and coalescing like mist.

"Say it," she said, and her voice reached out like a black tendril and met his own somewhere in the space between them, bridged in these moments saturated with secrecy, and emotion, and needs.

But there were many reasons why he'd called out for her. How could he list and explain them all? He rubbed his hand across his eyes, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing. Even with their connection, sometimes things needed to be said aloud, released into the air to be manifested and made real. "I missed you," he said, his hand still over his eyes. _Tired_ \- he was so tired.

He felt her arms encircle his shoulders, her body close, so close, and everything else was inconsequential. With a sigh, he let his head fall against her chest, and she rested her chin on top of it, and he put his arms around her middle and squeezed. Things were a hopeless mess, but it still hadn't changed either of their feelings, and if it had to be a mess and they had to be attached to one other, then at least they should be able to enjoy a quiet moment, like this, in each other's embrace, free from the trappings of the outside world. He pressed his face into her, as if he could hide from reality forever in the clean linen of her shirt. And for some very long, luxurious moments that were few and far between for the star-crossed lovers, they just were, existing in the arms of the one person who knew them, and who they trusted.

Then, Rey pulled back and he lifted his face to her, looking and searching his eyes. She put her fingers under his chin and tilted it upwards, then lowered her mouth to his. It was a languid, easy kiss, as her tongue licked at his upper lip and moved slowly against him, with just the stirrings of passion, just a touch of feeling and fire. He rose from the chair and pulled her to him, and she reached up and put her arms around his neck. He felt her fingers in his hair, dancing along the nape of his neck. The composure was slowly dissolving as the sensations of their bodies ignited emotions that had long lay dormant in their bellies, but which they'd had very little chance to act on.

"Touch me," she murmured against his mouth. "Take me." He heard the desire and want under the breathlessness of her words, like the body of an iceberg lurking just below the surface of the water. It made his head spin.

He wasn't about to let this opportunity pass them by. He steered her until the backs of her calves hit his bed, and she pulled out of the kiss, startled. "Careful," he murmured against her lips, and then helped lower her down until she was lying across his bed. It was a sight, to say the least. She sat up, briefly, to pull off her cotton shirt, and her breasts were bared, completely unbound. He remembered how they felt in his hands, soft and pliable, and the way she arched her back when he gently squeezed. Her mouth - her pretty, pink mouth - was open as she watched him with anticipation. Eager. He removed the garments from his torso, too, and moved on top of her, just as eager. This had been a long time coming between them.

Just as inviting as her mouth, her nipples were a similar shade of pink. They reminded him of candy from his childhood, little pink gumdrops that he'd suck on for hours while his mother practiced her Senatorial speeches. He could suck on these for hours, too, made ever sweeter by the way her chest rose and fell beneath his attentions, and her moans filled the room. He cupped between her legs and felt her hips respond, pressed up against his palm, needy and wanting. They circled against it, stimulating her, and when he brought his teeth together to nibble the end of her breast, she jolted and made a sharp sound of pleasure. He slipped his hands down the hem of her pants, and back in between her legs, which she spread further apart when she felt his fingers searching. He slowly pushed two fingers into her, and it was hot and wet and luscious, and it made him crazy with desire, to think she was in his bed and beneath him and more than ready to accept him. He pressed his palm back into the skin of her pelvis, and she rotated her hips against it while his fingers moved in and out; the sounds she vocalized made him light-headed. Arousal and lust and some primal, instinctual need made them both drunk.

"Kiss me," she demanded, so he brought his mouth to hers, and let her tongue slide into his mouth.

Foreplay was fine, but Rey was impatient. How many nights had she thought about what they'd been denied because of the voice over the intercom? How many times had she let her physical attraction and desire for him seize her in the night, as she lay on her bed or on a cot, twisting with needy sexual urges that could be momentarily reduced, but never satisfied. There was always something so incomplete about self-pleasure, especially when the person she'd rather have pleasing her was built and muscled and dark and powerful, and always gave her whatever she wanted. And what she wanted now was to feel his cock filling her to the brim, and she wasn't ashamed of that. She'd waited long enough.

But she was preoccupied by the ministrations of his hand, and the way she could work her hips against the firm plane of his palm, and how every circular motion was giving her a spike of sensation that ran up from her clit to the rest of her fidgety body. He kissed her jaw and the corners of her mouth with some kind of unholy reverence, and then moved to her neck and put his teeth to use in places other than her overly sensitive nipples. He bit down into the skin below her ear and she cried out, felt the new wave of lubrication seep out from between her legs. She'd never been so wet in her life; it was astounding.

She couldn't stand it. When he lifted his head and their eyes met, and she saw his pouty lips swollen and red from his affections on her body, she couldn't stop herself from nearly begging, "Fuck me."

A hooded gleam shone in his eye. He pressed his mouth to the base of her throat, kissing gently, belying the thick, heavy way he murmured, "Say that again."

She groaned, and licked her lips. "Fuck me," and it wasn't the kind of breathy, sensual entreaty another woman might make, no, this was aggressive, like a command. "I don't want to play any more games. Fuck me until we both lose our minds."

They both took a frenzied moment to finish stripping down to fully nude. When he was finally naked, he came back to the bed, his erection hard as stone, throbbing as wildly as her clit and lips. As he settled between her knees, her legs shook uncontrollably. It was the anticipation and the excitement, and the thrumming of sensations moving through her body that it couldn't contain. So hot, and so smooth, with her insides on fire, everything seemed so surreal. The tip of his cock moved up and down between her folds, and she groaned, but she made another sound entirely - an erotically charged outcry that strained her voice - when his cock thrusted into her, and stretched her, and worked her body with the entirety of its length. He pulled her legs up onto his shoulders, and leaned in, and began ramming into her so recklessly there was no doubt he had lost whatever semblance of control he'd managed to hold on to. It had been such a long time coming, that she was overly-sensitive to his every movement, and sound, and her own hot, flushed skin that was leaving her dazed.

He was pounding Rey's body so hard the headboard of the the bed was hitting the wall with a distinctly metallic clank. Every muscle in her clenched and released and tightened and loosened, reacting to his cock and his thrusts, and every single inch of his girth. She flattened her hands against the headboard for leverage, and then moved her hips in time to his thrusts, creating a steady, passionate rhyme. Every thrust went deeper and deeper, until the sound of their skin slapping frantically together joined their labored breathing, and Rey's whimpered mewls of cresting ecstasy. A quivering, vibrating mess, all she could do was call out his name, "Kylo, Kylo," as her body built to its most sinful of peaks. She couldn't hold on any longer, and there was no point in trying; she relaxed into the sensations and let them completely flood her and take over, and when the sharp prickle of arousal pitched between her legs, rushing from her clit downward, she gave her body to the feeling and orgasmed, waves and waves rolling through her every inch. It was too good; it felt too _good_ , like a dream.

With Rey flushed, and swollen, and throbbing around him, pulling him in and clenching, and then experiencing the rapid tighten and release of her orgasm, he couldn't possibly keep himself together much longer. When he came, it was with an uncharacteristically loud outcry of his own, overwhelmed by the intensity of his own body, and emotions, and the release of so many pent up desires.

She collapsed, and he collapsed, and they panted like crazy in the sudden silence. When he'd recovered some of his senses, he drew closer to her and pressed kisses into the still warm skin of her shoulder. She put her fingers under his chin and brought him closer and kissed him, her tongue hotter than lava inside his mouth.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Star Wars: Division

IceFire Dragon Alchemist73: Yes, I do wonder how Poe will react when he finds out Rey is carrying a flame for his rival... :)

onyxpass: Doing all right? Haha.

To all my readers: Enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen

The two women were locked in their seats, staring not angrily, or bitterly, but with a sternness of two friends who didn't like that their views were in opposition, knowing neither one of them would cave. It was a terrible silence, but Rey wasn't about to speak first. After all, she was the one on the defensive, so if she was going to be accused of something, she'd like to hear the accusations first, before scrambling to explain it away. They'd been sitting a good fifteen minutes, isolated in a remote conference room set off from the main hallway to the bridge. It had not escaped Rey's notice that she hadn't invited her to her private quarters, instead opting for a more business-like approach. Perhaps it was to maintain appearances for the crew, a choice to remain neutral in the whole situation, or perhaps she was really that worried about where Rey stood on the Light to Dark spectrum. She couldn't tell, just yet.

Finally, the older woman sighed and leaned forward, her elbows on the table. "What's going on, Rey," she asked simply.

Rey looked off at the far wall and folded her arms. Then she looked back. "Who knows about this?" It was best she understood just how widespread it had become that the Jedi hero was actually a traitor.

"You, me, Poe, Finn, and Rose, and that's as far as it goes," the woman answered heavily. "I told them to keep this to themselves. The other Resistance members can't hear about something like this. It'll crush morale."

Yes, crush morale. No concern to what it may do to Rey, though.

"I know you aren't a traitor, Rey. I know you've been thinking about how to save my son," her voice was shaky when she said 'son', and Rey's posture eased. Leia was being particularly composed, but perhaps it was all just a facade to keep herself from falling to pieces. She remembered their conversation about Kylo Ren, and how he hadn't been able to kill his mother when he'd so easily had the chance; how Leia had believed it was a side effect of Ben Solo continuing to exist within the dark folds of his alter-egos armor. "But this - ?" She made a hopeless gesture. "This Force connection, whatever it is, that you two have - it has to end."

Rey looked away, again, and fidgeted. Obviously, Leia's demand was expected, but it didn't mean she had to like hearing it.

"You need to pick a side, Rey."

"I have picked a side!" She suddenly burst out, unable to keep her temper in check. It was an insult to think the General she'd been serving for weeks didn't believe she'd chosen to stand at her side.

"No," Leia said, her voice firmer. "You are torn between your duties as a Jedi and the possibility of saving Kylo Ren just as his grandfather was saved. But it's a fantasy, it'll never happen! You need to let it go."

She wanted to ask, very defiantly and broodingly, _"What if I don't?"_ But she knew that wouldn't help the situation she was in. The last thing she wanted to do was bait Leia and stoke a fire in her. If she wasn't at least slightly agreeable, then she worried Leia would relegate her to menial tasks, take her off big missions, omit her from meetings and battle strategy, or else push her away entirely, possibly out of the Resistance altogether. "I - " she sighed, and looked at the woman, frowned a little. "I'm trying," she lied smoothly, masking her deceit with the eyes of a hopeful fool. "But I want to believe he can change, and I - " again she cut herself off, bit down on her lip. "And this thing? This connection? I don't think either of us can control it. It's confusing, really, how it just started."

"When did it start?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "When I got to Ahch'To to find Luke."

Leia's eyebrows shot up. "That long ago?"

Rey nodded sadly. "I didn't understand it, at first. I was more focused on getting Luke back, and and - finding my place in all this," she gestured when appropriate, fueling her performance with the real emotions she had felt at the time; it _had_ been confusing, and she _had_ been desperate to bring back the Jedi Master Skywalker, so the short moments with Kylo Ren had felt intimate, but dream-like. Initially, she thought she'd been making it all up. "And then it just kept happening," she said barely above a whisper, "even after Crait, the Force just kept creating these moments between us. And I felt - "

"Alone?" Leia said softly.

Rey nodded. "Yeah. Having someone to talk to about the Force, about what was happening to me and my power, it was - Well, it was - "

"Nice," Leia answered simply, and she nodded. "I understand." Her voice was grave, but sympathetic, and when she looked up from the tabletop her eyes were kind as they rested on the younger woman's face. "It hasn't been easy for you, Rey, I know. My brother wasn't a great teacher, was he," she said half-humorous, half-sarcastic. "But it doesn't change the fact that this can't go on. It's dangerous," she urged. "The Dark Side has lured many a good-hearted Jedi who had high hopes and good intentions. And Kylo Ren hasn't been known for being deceitful, but a Sith will become whatever they have to to get their way. Don't be deceived."

Two standard days ago Kylo Ren had been on top of her in his bed, moaning her name as their bodies moved against each other, and she hadn't found anything remotely deceitful about the open, giving expression on his face, then.

"I'll sort it out," she said with a sigh. "I will. I can search the Jedi texts for a way to close it or something."

"And you'll face the truth about him? Just as I did," she pressed.

"Yes," Rey conceded. "I'll do my best to give up on the idea of saving him."

The General nodded, her mouth set in a thin line of somewhat satisfaction. "All right. That will do - for now." She stood and moved towards the exit, then thought of something and turned back. "Take a couple days to rest and relax. Meditate. Consult the Jedi texts. Find your center, before you go back out on a mission."

Rey swallowed, dissatisfied with that decision, but unable to do anything about it. So, she nodded instead, relenting. "Fine."

"We'll keep this from everyone else, so don't do something that makes it come to light to the crew."

"Fine," she said again.

"The Resistance needs you, Rey, like the Clone Wars and the Republic needed Anakin. Don't be tempted like he was."

Then she left.

She exhaled the heavy breath she'd been holding in. So, she was lying to Leia's face now, was she? She let her forehead hit the table and sat there for several minutes in an odd stupor of guilt and defiance. Part of her didn't like putting on a show because it went against who she was, which was honest and sincere and straightforward. And that's how her friends knew her - that's how _everyone_ knew her - and it was how she wanted to be known. But there was a part of her that was rationalizing the lies, because if she told Leia the truth, they certainly wouldn't be sitting down to a chat to talk things out. If she thought Rey was jeopardizing the cause in any way - even though Rey had not passed a single bit of information to Kylo Ren and would never do that - she was sure the General would see her gone. The Resistance had gotten their footing, again; their numbers were increasing, the Republic forces were strengthening them, and other independent planets were coming to their aide, now convinced the First Order needed to be eliminated once and for all, before another Empire had the chance to take hold of power and strangle the Galaxy and its inhabitants. And while Rey was still seen as the Jedi hero, she was useful to Leia. If she gave the woman any reason to be suspicious, she'd be nothing.

No wonder Ben Solo had suffered as a child. Everything was business with his mother, everything was cut and dry. Even if she wanted to be a good mother and see her son, her duty to her planet, to the Republic, and to the Galaxy always superseded her son's needs and, judging from the state of their non-marriage, her husband's needs as well. _And her own_ , Rey realized. Whatever desires she may have had to have a perfect family, and be a good wife and good mother, and to have an attentive husband and loving son, it would remain a dream, an impossible reality, because she was dedicated to her work as a politician, and the needs of others were always greater than the needs of personal relationships. And her husband was dedicated to his life as a rogue, and would never fully assimilate into the high society life of Coruscant politics. The thought made her snort. Yeah, Han Solo in a sky rise ballroom, cleaned up in a suit, sipping wine with his wife while they mingled at a social gathering. Impossible.

And between the two, the tragic existence of their son, who needed them, but also scared them, and who couldn't get their attention even as the successful, smart, powerful child he had been.

She rubbed her hand across her eyes, rubbing in frustration and exhaustion, and some other nameless feeling that was gnawing at her gut. The further she went with the Resistance, and with Kylo Ren, the more complicated things became, the more entangled and confusing and painful and wrong. She'd come from a simple life; harsh, yes, but simple. Wake up, scavenge, get rations, go home, and eat her meager meal and wait for the dawn to do it all over again. Sometimes she honestly felt like she was drowning, unable to keep her head above the muck and mire that were politics and the government and her personal feelings, and the destiny that had forced everything upon her in one fell swoop and wouldn't let go. Because like Leia, she wasn't able to turn away from her calling - not for anything. Even though jumping in an escape pod and hiding away on some remote planet in the Outer-Rim was oh so tempting, she'd never do it. If she did she wouldn't be able to live with herself. The cowardice of it would eat her alive.

How was she going to get through this?

 **Later:**

"I'm glad to see you're well."

She smiled a little. "Thanks Master Skywalker. I've missed our lessons."

"Me too," he said with a quick gleam in his eye and a smile poking out through his gruff beard. "Have you been practicing your forms?"

She nodded confidently. "I have, but I'd like to run through them. Being out of commission for a week really puts a person out of practice."

Luke nodded in agreement. "Let's run through them. Begin with Form One, and move through the transitions like I showed you."

She picked up her lightsaber, took a deep breath, and began.

As was common during their practice sessions, she and Luke said little - only what needed to be said. She asked relevant questions, and he often gave cryptic answers, but she had learned a while ago that that was just the way of all Masters, to let their pupil come across the answers on their own, in order to better teach the lesson and promote self-growth. She was fine with that, really, as she already did almost everything independently.

That's why, after she'd gone through all the Forms several times and was sweating, she was surprised when Luke asked her, quietly, "Tell me about your relationship with Kylo Ren."

She froze a moment, ready to deny any relationship at all, but she sensed, suddenly, that that would be unwise, so she opted for a semblance of the truth. After all, Luke had seen them in the hut on Ahch'To. How could she even attempt to lie or deflect the issue?

Panting, with beads of sweat rolling down between her shoulder blades, she all but fell into her chair and relaxed against it. She put her lightsaber on the desk next to her and eyed the older man, in his oddly spectral form. "The Force is connecting us," she said heavily between breaths.

"Connecting you how?" He asked with a slightly quirked eyebrow.

"It - bridges us together, across space. We can see each other, communicate."

"Touch," he added pensively, no doubt thinking of that night on Ahch'To. "And your surroundings? Can you see where he is, and he you?"

She shook her head, "No. We see each other, and that's all."

"Hm," he said, thinking.

She watched him with some wariness, but also trepidation. What if she told Luke something that ended up getting back to Leia? They were siblings, after all. If he wanted to appear to Rey, it stood to reason he could appear to her, Force-sensitive as she was. Would Luke act as a spy for her? Were the two conspiring against her?

"And what do you talk about?"

Her mouth thinned. She didn't want to discuss any of their business with Luke.

He sensed her unease, and pressed the matter. "You must talk about something," he persisted, folding his hands in front of himself. "I can't imagine you two just sit and stare at each other."

She sighed, and grabbed a towel from the end of her bed. She began dabbing at the sweat lining her forehead and neck. "We talk about the Force, mostly."

"What about the Force?"

"The Light, and the Dark. Techniques, theory," she said vaguely, waving her hand around in the air in some off-handed gesture, trying to look nonchalant. "The same things I'd think Jedi Masters would talk about in the old Temple on Coruscant before it was blown up."

"Yes, the difference being," he said sternly, and drew closer, "they were Jedi discussing the Force. Kylo Ren is not a Jedi."

"Not anymore," she said with a bit of bite to her words, frowning up at the man.

"No," he said heavily, and relaxed pulled up from his leering posture over her. "Not anymore. And perhaps you can blame me for that, Rey, but it doesn't change what he is. Discussing the Force with a Dark Side user will lead you down a dark path."

"Why," she said defiantly. "Why can't I just speak with him to understand him? Isn't 'know thy enemy' one of the most important philosophies of battle? Is it so impossible to maintain communication with him and not be tempted by the Dark Side?"

"The Dark Side is nothing _but_ temptation, Rey," Luke said gruffly, again advancing on her. His eyes were suddenly fierce, even as corporeal as they were. "Believe me. I have felt the pull of the Dark Side. The power, the easiness, ruling through anger and hatred and fear. Giving in to ideas of grandeur, of unlimited possibilities, and doing whatever is necessary to achieve that. My father," he said heavily, and he got the far off look of someone caught in the pain and nostalgia of reminiscence, "wanted me to join him, to rule as father and son and overthrow Palpatine. And I - " his voice caught. "And I almost said yes, Rey, because I imagined if I joined my father I could use my influence to turn him back to the Light, and we could be _Jedi_ together, not Sith. We could rebuild the old Temple, rebuild the Order." His eyes cast down, filled with sorrow, "But he was too deep. It never would've worked."

"And yet," she said eagerly, licking her upper lip, "when the time came, he did what was right, and you turned him back to the Light in the end. You were stronger than his darkness."

"No, no I wasn't," he said sadly. "My father killed Palpatine to save his son's life. That was all. Though there remained slivers of Light in his soul, Darth Vader didn't believe in his redemption. He didn't believe he could be saved." His eyes lifted from the ground and he fixed her with a hard stare. "Neither does Kylo Ren. And if he doesn't believe, it won't matter how much you do."

She folded her arms; it was clearly not the answer she was looking for.

"Don't be stubborn, Rey. Don't be naive. He will use you same as my own father wanted to use me."

She kept her mouth clamped shut.

"Ask him what he wants. Sense his intentions through the Force. Don't be blinded, Rey. Find the truth." And with those last words, his Ghost form shimmered in the air, and disappeared.

She showered. While she did, his words continued to play in the back of her mind. Was she being naive for putting so much trust in Kylo Ren? Yes, she had sensed his emotions and thoughts - they were very real - but what if they were only memories? And he placed those memories in the forefront of his mind for her to find, to win her over, to distract her from the truth that lay buried even deeper below the surface. She roared and slammed her fist against the shower wall. It was becoming so difficult to navigate her own mind; just when she felt confident in this _one_ thing, something came along to sow doubt. But they had - She swallowed at the memory. They had brought their emotional and mental connection to the physical world. Wasn't it real? Weren't his feelings for her _real_?

Perhaps because she had been thinking about him so much, but just as she was finished getting dressed in clean clothes, he was there, in her room, taking her in. And she had missed him, god dammit but she did, and seeing him standing there, with Luke's unfeeling, fiendish words in her head, all she wanted to do was hold him. Why did that have to be wrong? Why couldn't it just be _right_?

 _Because the Galaxy has never seen a relationship between a Jedi and a Sith, before. It's a love story with only one ending: tragedy. Death and pain._

His eyes were on her lightsaber, and the towel she'd been using to wipe herself down. "Practicing?"

She smiled a little. "I was," and she cleared off the towel and placed it in her dirty clothes hamper.

"So, your training with Luke goes well?" He said suddenly, a very unreadable, veiled tone to his voice. And underneath that - the makings of ill will and a threat.

This was the day every little thing she had been able to balance in her life decided to give her a wake up call and come falling down upon her, burying her underneath the weight and guilt and tangle of emotions. Her head snapped up. Her mouth opened to speak, but when it did he said lowly, "Don't try to lie. I know he's been training you."

So, it was that obvious? Well, she supposed it must be, considering she'd gone from a complete novice, to using proper Jedi forms and techniques with familiarity and ease. Plus, having been trained under Master Skywalker, it would be easy for him to recognize a fellow student. And she had been about to lie about it. Lying to Leia, lying to Luke, lying to Kylo - hell, she'd lied to her friends, too. When was she going to get this under control? How had things begun to tailspin so badly, when it had seemed so in hand a week ago? So under control? Then, she'd been back on Shu-Torun, fighting and rescuing and _doing_ , like a real hero, risking her life and limb to join the fray, and it had been so uncomplicated, then, without the reminders of her afflictions between the two sides in the galactic war. Now she was lying more than she'd ever done in her life just to try and keep a grip on everything.

"Yes, she said stiffly, and slowly met his gaze.

There was something entirely different about him, something bordering on possessiveness, as he drew close to her and rested his dark, impenetrable eyes on her. "He'll try to take you from me." Hearing his voice was like hearing the warning howl of a wild animal.

She didn't back away from him, but she also didn't know what to say. His uncle was a sore spot for him, and no amount of coaxing on her part was going to smooth the issue over. "He's just training me," she finally said after a few moments worrying her bottom lip. "You know I need a teacher."

"Yes," he acquiesced, and then turned away from her, as if admitting that had stung him and he didn't want to look vulnerable.

Luke's words resurfaced. She hated that the older man - the _dead man_ \- had been able to get to her, but all the same, she needed to know, now, what exactly Kylo Ren had planned. "Tell me about your plans for the Galaxy," she said, and moved after him as he retreated. "Tell me about our partnership in all this." She wrapped her arms around him from behind.

He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss to her palm. It tingled, and she smiled into his back, but then heard him say thickly, "No."

She withdrew immediately, the kiss on her palm more like a burn than a sign of affection. "So, you don't trust me?"

"It's not as if you haven't rejected me before," he said and she heard in his voice that the corners of his mouth were down turned.

"That - " she tried to rebuttal, but Kylo Ren turned and raised his hand to stop her.

"I'll tell you when you're ready, and not a moment before," he said lowly.

"And when will that be? When my basic training is complete? When I've finished reading the Jedi texts?" She huffed, angry at having the role of reject-ee turned around on her. "When Luke graduates me beyond a Padawan?"

He looked at her, not the least bit ruffled by her angry words, or the impotence she faced in her powerless position, unable to do anything about his willingness to reveal anything to her. He understood her frustration - he had been in her place many many times, first with his parents, then his uncle, and then with Snoke. Time and again, he'd been told he wouldn't understand, and he wasn't ready, and the time would come when all would be revealed. Of course, the difference being that he fully intended to reveal everything to Rey when the time was right, and everyone in his life had been lying to placate him, or control him. "You'll know," he said simply.

But that was unsatisfactory for the fiery, impatient woman, and he had never withheld anything from her, never denied her - except in the case of his father. Everything else, if she asked, and if she wanted, he'd tell her, he'd give, or else let her take. Like himself. He gave himself to her, to her mouth and her hands and her own body, and the memory of it made blood rush within her in a sudden peak of anticipation. His tongue, his teeth - his hips and her hips coming together over and over. And yet now, he was telling her she wasn't ready, and he was denying her, and it felt cold and lonely. How had she not proven herself to him? What more could he want? Maybe she was being unfair, especially as the one who'd instigated the situation, and yet her sense of self-righteousness didn't allow her to care much about her responsibility in the whole thing, and instead just left her stung.

Without a doubt, the shadow was creeping over her, like a spectre in a forest, hunting the pretty damsel in a fairytale, gliding through the trees and over the dirt pathway, reaching and reaching and reaching. A spot of darkness on her amazingly radiant soul. He'd like to think he was that spot, that lingering, malignant spot that wouldn't let her go. He didn't need to infect her and make her insides rot; he didn't need to spread and consume, no, that was not the point. Her strength and her courage and her Light must stay intact and wholesome. She must be Rey as only she could be. He didn't need to change her. All he need do was remind her he was there.

And she wasn't ready for what he'd been longing to tell her, what he had been so ready to divulge from that very first moment their eyes had met in his torture room. Because he had known - it was _her_. The girl from Luke's vision. It was _her_. And Snoke had been too blind to see it. Luke, he had thought, was the power in the Light that would rise up and rival him, and Kylo Ren had kept his mouth shut to protect her, even then, before ever having met her. He had bowed his head like a subservient apprentice and said not one word about who he knew to be the real power - the real Light. Because she was out there, somewhere, amongst the nebulae and white dwarves and icy moons - she was out there. And he'd believed she would come to him.

And now before him, here she was in all her glory. He hadn't expected -

But that was irrelevant. That didn't matter in the grand scheme of it all, though it certainly wasn't something he disliked.

"I was hasty when I tried to convince you on the _Supremacy_. I realize my mistake. You need to learn and grow, so that when I do tell you, you'll believe in it like I do. Not because I'm telling you to believe, but because your own experiences and knowledge lead you to the same conclusions. Only then will we be able to achieve our goals."

Her nostrils flared, her fists were clenched. The fire in her eyes was ablaze. And she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and thinking about Luke turning her against him, especially after tasting and learning her body, was keeping him awake at night as nothing had ever done before. He pulled her to him, into his arms, and was relieved when she didn't resist. They kissed, a warm, passionate kiss that helped them both vent their negative feelings, and instead indulge in something more luxurious. "The time will come," he said in her ear, and a shiver ran down her spine.

 **Late on a rainy night in Coruscant:**

By then, it was common knowledge that General Armitage Hux and Senator Carise Sindian had gotten themselves into a bit of trouble with the Supreme Leader, and they were mildly disgraced. Though the Supreme Leader had not made a very large show of his disdain for either person, his demeanor when speaking - or referring - to either of them made it very clear he was, to say the very least, unhappy. The General had been put on a short leave - only a week - but that was enough for other First Order military personnel to begin to see the divide that was occurring, certainly the way Kylo Ren was trying to distance Hux from the apex of power within the Order. It was like he was slowly trying to wedge the red-haired man out, and people in high positions, with the qualifications to replace him as Lead General, had taken notice and then some. If Hux could be unseated, there would be an opening for a promotion, and everyone liked the idea of a promotion, working as the Supreme Leader's right-hand. It was alluring.

Then there was the matter of Carise, who was continuing her long streak of utter embarrassment, exiled from the _Finalizer_ because the Supreme Leader didn't want her "dirtying his ship." That had been insult enough, and the Senator hadn't made contact with the ship, its crew, or anyone since then, though she had been a regular caller before. People knew a washed up political figure when they saw one. Sure, she still held her position, and she was still wealthy beyond compare, but the question of "how long" had certainly reached the lips of many a gossipers within the First Order, and the rumor mill was wild with speculation on just how her fall from grace would occur - when, where, why. It was fun chatter for lower ranking persons to speculate and fantasize about the downfalls of their superiors, especially when those superiors were heartless snakes.

And that is why, in a seedy bar, lounge, and pleasure club situated in the lowest levels of Coruscant, the two disgraced officials were having a covert meeting, beyond the prying eyes of their assistants and secretaries and rivals. If Kylo Ren got word they were meeting, surely both of their careers would come to an end, and that would be the least of it. Unfortunately, though they had worked hard to disguise themselves in the appropriate garb of the area and socioeconomic class, it was still obvious to anyone who watched with just a bit of a keen eye that the two did not belong in the dank, damp bar, with its usual patrons of bounty hunters and smugglers, and the workers who wore skimpy outfits and dance on table tops. Their posture was too rigid - their noses too high; they carried themselves with the air of the powerful and polished, even as they hid their faces with dirty capes and hoods and sat away from the main area at a small table.

But then again, even if they did stick out, the patrons of the establishment were used to keep their nose out of other people's business, not only because they valued their own privacy, but also because they didn't want to make trouble and get thrown out. It was one of the few remaining bars on Coruscant where they could congregate, and the owner had strict policies; she took no guff from anyone. More than a handful of times, she'd passed out permanent bans, and that was a death sentence for any smuggler or bounty hunter trying to get work on Coruscant. Being ostracized from the group was bad for business; no connections, no coin. That simple. So, once or twice, the shady characters of the place looked the other way and paid no mind.

"Your informant in the Resistance," Hux said in a frenzied whisper. "They're ready to begin cooperating?"

Carise leaned close to her confidante, a grin pulling her plum lips into two thin, wicked lines. "They are ready and willing."

"Excellent," he said in a rush of excitement. "Ren must be exposed before we're made fools of and demoted. This will be the way we do it. They've agreed to find evidence of the Jedi and him working together?"

"Yes, absolutely," she simpered, proud and preening from her ability to get an associate close to enough to the Resistance to recruit such an informant. Actually, the associate had made contact weeks ago, but at the time the informant had been unwilling, naive in their hope. They had had a sudden change of heart, and she was thrilled, especially as her ploy to get the Jedi assassinated had fallen through, and attempting it again was impossible because they no longer had her location. Having been reunited with the main Resistance fleet, they could be flying the Galaxy, or else bunkered down somewhere in a new headquarters.

Reports were that Republic forces were banding together with the Resistance, and they were rebuilding their numbers at an alarming rate. But, if they were going to continue to be a pain in the First Order's side, surely they could do so with Hux as Supreme Leader and Sindian as First Senator. Then, together, the two could finally squash the pests, and their vile messages of peace and hope, and the Galaxy could be shaped in their image.

"We'll need to be patient," Hux continued, thinking out loud more than anything. "We will need hard, definitive proof against him before we make a move. We cannot risk public humiliation again, or else if he did demote us the entire crew and Senate would agree, and raise no fuss. Something he can't weasel his way out of."

Sindian noticed his knuckles were white as he tightly gripped his glass. She placed a hand on his forearm to help ease the tension. "Don't worry, Armitage, we will do this. It's just as you said, we need to be patient and keep our heads down. The time will come." Her fingers curled around his forearm in a jolt of excitement. " _Our_ time will come."

He raised his glass. "Our time."

She _clinked_ her own against his, and grinned. "Our time."

They both downed their drinks and ordered a second round.


End file.
